Pride and Prejudice in Space
by non-damsel
Summary: Not modernized, but futurized! Elizabeth is a scientist on a war zone fringe planet; Darcy is a politician and galaxy golden boy. May sound strange, but come on, give it a chance.
1. Prolouge

Pride and Prejudice in Space

.

Prolouge

Elizabeth Bennett turned off the satellite screen with an angry grunt. Not with the remote. She had actually stood and walked across the room and turned it off by hand to emphasize her distain, as if the persons on the other side of that screen could see her. As if she had more of an audience then Janie, who, from the couch, offered with a conciliatory tone, "At least we're on the public consciousness."

"It's bullshit," Elizabeth said. "The entire news media is trying to make this sound like some kind of heroic gesture. Like we're doing such important _work_ here that William Darcy needs to send twenty thousand heavily armed soldiers to a planet inhabited solely by three scientist merely to defend and preserve us."

"Technically," Janie interjected, "Char isn't a scientist."

Elizabeth shrugged. She crossed the room again and fell onto the couch beside Janie. Her body crumpled beneath her. She had fought this for weeks, she had lost, and she was tired.

It had been an ambush. They had only been informed a month ago that troops were being sent to their world, a desert planet on edge of the Outer Colonies. Maia was a wasteland, a virtually uninhabitable place, except that they had spent the past five years developing technologies to make it, and other planets like it, inhabitable. They had been sent by the current Earth administration, and then it seemed they had been forgotten. But Elizabeth realized that things had not been as they'd seemed. The administration had been monitoring their progress more closely than they'd realized. They had been waiting.

Elizabeth said, "The point is, they should just own it. Maia is a strategic military position. We're right on the edge of the war zone. They sent us here to prepare the way for their gunmen. That's the only reason they care about our _work_."

She punctuated the word "work" with a heavy dose of satire, as she was apt to do lately. The truth was—she hadn't told this to Janie or Char—but the truth was she had lost faith in their work. Elizabeth had been proud of what they were doing on Maia. It was the work of a lifetime, making an unlivable planet livable. But she wasn't proud of it anymore. She felt duped. And there was nothing she hated more than feeling stupid.

Behind Janie and Elizabeth, a door opened and Char entered. "Tomorrow's the day," he announced in his booming voice, a voice that always filled up a room, no matter how large or how small. It was 9:30, and he had just finished locking down their small space-station home for the night. It wasn't that there was anything out their trying to get in. At first, alone on the planet, the locks had made them feel more secure. Now it was force of habit really, as many of their protocols were.

Part engineer, part bodyguard, Char had been part of their three-person team since year one. Elizabeth had known Janie by reputation before the Maia project, but Char she had not heard of or met until they day the three of them set off for the unknown planet. Not once since the moment she had met him had she doubted his value as a team-member or as a friend.

"Tomorrow is the day," Janie repeated. There was a sigh in her voice. Even her glass-half-full optimism could not completely combat the defeat and apprehension they were all feeling.

Tomorrow was not the day the troops arrived, but it was the day that William Darcy arrived with his entourage. William Darcy, who had, with his grass-roots charm and his hands-on approach, transformed the nebulous position of Secretary of Colonial Administration into a very public and well-respected office. William Darcy, the galaxy golden boy. The man who would be king. He was coming himself to oversee the military incursion, even though Maia was not really a colony planet.

"How was our news coverage tonight?" Char asked, taking a seat across from the ladies. Elizabeth scowled and he added. "I'm judging from the fact that the satellite is off, not good. Well, look on the bright side—"

Elizabeth interrupted. "Let me guess. On the bright side we're on the public consciousness."

Char stretched his armed behind his head and leaned back against them. A lazy grin spread across his face. "That we are. But I was going to say, look on the bright side, at least your parents didn't name you Charlemagne."

Despite her mood, Elizabeth smiled. Char's humor, often self-directed, always made Elizabeth smile. It was part of why she loved him.

He continued, "Also on the bright side, they are sending us twenty thousand soldiers. Twenty thousand hot, athletic, uniformed soldiers. Think of how long it's been since you've had sex."

"Five years," Janie said wistfully.

They were joking still, but Elizabeth was too generally irritable for jokes to hold up for long. "Who's side are you on?" she snapped. "For heaven's sake, have sex with each other!"

She stood abruptly and made an equally abrupt exit of the room. It wasn't that she wanted to make a scene, and she new that Char and Janie new her well enough to understand that. It was just that she was irritable, and she thought she would be better off on her on and that the other two would be better off without her. So she went to her room and settled in for a long Maia night.

In the morning she would wake, and it would all begin.

* * *

**A/N: So. I am posting this short prologue for the sake of seeing if anyone is interested. What do you think? Too bizarre? This idea just randomly came to me and it's been rattling around in my head for a while. Give me some feedback and I will give you a proper chapter! **


	2. Part I, Chapter 1

**PART ONE**

which features:  
Dune jokes, brothers and sisters, plants with impossible roots, Will Darcy's babysitter,  
an explanation of the word "compensating," _The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling_,  
union politics, the Earth room, a kiss, and a tale from the most masterful storyteller

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The next morning found Elizabeth standing in front of a full length mirror for the first time in at least four years. In fact, she had forgotten they had a full length mirror, hidden as it were behind a diagram of the space station pinned to the wall in the room she and Janie shared. She was wearing a gray pencil skirt and white button down (she'd found them in the recesses of her closet) and makeup. Her hair was down. It wasn't that they'd let personal hygiene go on Maia, but they had definitely gotten used to tank-tops and ponytails. Elizabeth's reflection looked like a stranger.

Char entered the room without knocking. "You look pretty," he said.

She eyed his reflection in the mirror, and held back a smile. Even on such a momentous day, he had not eschewed his usual uniform of cargo shorts and a T-shirt. 'I thought we'd agreed that we wanted to be taken seriously," she said, mostly joking.

Char shrugged. "I am what I am. Your parents are on the satellite."

They had only one satellite screen in the station, on which they received video calls as well as a weak TV feed from New Bisbee, the closest of the outer colony planets. The space station had three rooms of living space—two bedrooms and one main room that was part kitchen and part living room. Elizabeth followed Char out to the main room. Janie was already there, pleasantly chatting with Elizabeth's mom while she ironed her own professional ensemble.

"We have an iron?" Char asked.

Janie laughed. "Who knew?"

"Look at you," said Rose Bennett from the video screen, as Elizabeth took a seat on the couch in front of it. "I was just saying to Janie, that William Darcy has to get married if he wants to be president in a few years. I'll bet he's on the lookout."

There were few things Elizabeth and her mother saw eye to eye on, but if one thing stood as a the biggest roadblock in their relationship it was this. Unimpressed by careers, Rose Bennett saw it as her personal mission to marry her eldest daughter off. It was a constant source of contention.

"I don't think the ineffable Darcy is coming to Maia to find a wife, mom," Elizabeth said. "Not with President de Bourgh willing and ready to marry him into her political dynasty."

Rose affected a knowing tone. "All I'm saying is, God doesn't give us opportunities so that we can squander them. Are you wearing lipstick?" She pursed her own heavily-painted lips and squinted at the screen, although either her eyes or the screen resolution was not good enough for her to see for herself the answer to this question.

"When have I ever worn lipstick?" Elizabeth sighed. She added, "Where's dad?" and with that effectively cut off the impending argument.

"ROBERT!" Rose shouted towards their kitchen. In a few minutes, Elizabeth's dad appeared beside his wife. He was a broad man, slightly balding now with what was left of his hair still cropped close in a military cut. He loved a good beer and a good baseball game. He also loved Elizabeth.

"Big day?" he said, grinning at his daughter.

"It's not every day you meet Will Darcy," she said with only a slightest hint of sarcasm. Yet it did not go unnoticed by her father nor by Char, who had taken a seat beside her and was eating his breakfast. With such little space to live in, privacy on satellite calls was something the three scientists had long done away with. Elizabeth's parents saw as much of Char and Janie as they did of her.

"Keep an open mind," Robert said. "Darcy may surprise you."

"I'm sure he will," Elizabeth said dutifully. She thought for a minute. Char, at least, had heard the speech before, but he was about to hear it again.

She began: "Look, I've got nothing against William Darcy. I'm just saying I find his whole plebian looking-out-for-the-disenfranchised-fringe-planets persona to be a bit of an act. He's probably never even been to the Outer Colonies until now. I mean, we all know what Will Darcy really is."

Elizabeth paused. Nobody bit.

"The landed gentry. That's all," she finished with triumph.

"You know what else he is?" Char interjected. "Smolderingly hot."

"He doesn't like men, Charlemagne," Rose Bennett said consolingly, and Char burst into his booming laugh.

Elizabeth's rolled her eyes. "You see the line Char is taking on this military invasion. He's as boy-crazy right now as a thirteen-year-old girl."

Char shrugged. "I can't deny it."

Then Janie, who had left the room while they were talking, reentered it in her skirt and heels. "9:42," she said, reminding them all that the grand arrival was less than twenty-minutes away.

Upon seeing Janie, Rose Bennett sighed and said irritably to her daughter, "Look at Janie. Why can't you put in an effort like that? You can't catch bees without honey, you know."

This was not exactly fair. Janie—blonde, green-eyed, tall, with the most perfect ivory complexion—was impossibly beautiful in the way that only movie stars or mythical goddesses were. Elizabeth was darker and shorter, her hair an untamable mass of brown curls. She was pretty enough, but of course she couldn't rival Janie.

Ignoring her mother's comment, she simply said, "We'd better go. They'll be here soon."

But before she shut of the satellite her father stopped her. "We need to talk about your sister," he said.

It had been mentioned that Lydia might spend her summer on Maia. Robert Bennett seemed to think it would do his wayward younger daughter good to spend some time seeing what a purposeful existence looked like. He also thought it would do her some good to be away from boys.

But the timing was no longer right. Elizabeth said, "I know we talked about her coming out here for the summer, but I don't think it's a good idea anymore. We've already got politicians and an army descending upon us. You put Lydia here, that's just…." she trailed off.

"Asking for trouble," Char finished.

"Exactly."

"The thing is," Robert Bennett said, suddenly sounding a little sheepish, "she'll be there tomorrow."

For a moment, Elizabeth was silent. Then: "You didn't. You did not send her out here on that military ship."

Robert tried to downplay things. "I just made an inquiry to see if they would let me. Never thought they would but…" he shrugged.

Elizabeth groaned and covered her face with her hands. But, to her credit, she recovered quickly. "Alright," she said. "Lydia is coming." She said goodbye to her parents and turned off the screen.

"What a fun summer we'll have!" Char said cheerfully. "Will Darcy, men in uniform, and Lydia. What could possibly go wrong?"

Elizabeth scowled. "Shut up, Char."

"I hear them," Janie said, and sure enough there was the distant rumble of a spacecraft engine. It was a matter of minutes away from landing. The three of them were all quiet, listening, all three with their own premonitions about what the arrival would bring. None of Elizabeth's premonitions were good. Try as she might, she could not shake the feeling of foreboding.

Janie felt it too. She met Elizabeth's eyes with an apprehensive expression.

Elizabeth mustered a smile. "It's going to be fine," she said. "Everything's going to be fine."

Char reached out and patted her knee.

* * *

William Darcy stood at a wide, space-craft window staring out towards the vastest stretch of nothing he had ever seen. The Maia space station was somewhere behind him. All he could see from his vantage point was miles and miles of desert. How anyone could live on such a planet for five years he could not fathom. He wasn't sure he would be able to survive his scheduled month.

The trip to Maia was more than just overseeing the military settlement onto the planet. There was unrest on New Bisbee. The war between the United Earth Empire and the growing number of planets under the control of Ceres—or Second Earth, as it had been colloquially labeled—was getting dangerously close to the Outer Colonies, closest to New Bisbee. The mining planet demanded military protection. There were rumors of an imminent planet-wide union strike.

He heard a voice behind him: "Will Darcy, on the cusp of greatness. What on earth are you doing here?"

The voice was Caroline Bingley's, and she soon after appeared in Will's peripheral vision beside him at the window.

"Not sight-seeing," he said.

Haughtily, she turned her head away from him as if to punish him for his modest trivialization of her reasons for being there. The truth was, Will didn't mind that she had come along. Not really. He didn't mind Caroline. In fact, there had been a time (he could remember that time, but he could not quite fathom it, in hindsight) when he had admired her tremendously. But over the past two years he had begun to suspect that the things he admired most about her—her kindness to his sister, her sense of adventure—were not natural to her but qualities she had carefully cultivated to impress and ensnare him.

Of course, he realized he was not the same person he had been two years ago. What had happened two years ago had taken a toll on him, for better or for worse, and he had changed. He was less generous, less at ease. He had a suspicious nature.

So, feeling guilty, he turned to Caroline and made it a joke. "I mean, what sights are there to see?" He watched her profile as she smiled, until she tipped her head enough that her dark hair fell forward and veiled the expression. So Will returned he vision to the scenery, which was of greater interest to him anyway. He had heard they had found a way to grow food. He couldn't see how that was possible.

Having lost his interest, Caroline was keen to regain it. She tried again to foster conversation. "I can't imagine what they're living like out here. Barbarians probably," she said. She was a snob, no doubt about it. But hadn't he been wondering the same thing? Was he also a snob? And had he always been, or was this too a change?

"I'm sure they're managing," Will replied.

A third voice, entering the room, said, "More than managing, I think." It was Christian Bingley, Caroline's brother and Will's right hand. He walked in head down, examining something on his ubiquitous hand-computer. When he reached them, he stopped and glanced at Caroline.

Caroline looked annoyed but managed a light tone as she said, "Alright boys, I'll let you talk shop." She left the room, pressing a hand lightly against Will's arm as she past. He regarded the touch with a raised eyebrow, then turned to Christian.

"Alright, Chris, what kind of trouble are we going to have from the locals?" He knew that the scientist had been putting up a bit of a fuss about the military being station on their planet. (_Their _planet—as if it were.) He didn't know exactly how big of a fuss he was about to walk into.

"It hard to say," Chris replied. He sat down in an empty chair, still scrolling around on his screen. "My guess is this Charlemagne Lucas character is going to be the one to watch out for. I can't tell you with certitude, but there seem to be some traces of eco-terrorism in his background. Elizabeth Bennett on the other hand," he looked up at Will, "is an army brat. Her father was a colonel. Grew up on an army bases."

"That's something," he said. But to be honest, he was less worried about the scientists than he was about New Bisbee. He could already tell you what the scientists would be like—earnest, moral, self-important. Maybe, he mused, he would exit his government space craft to be greeted by three hand-written picket signs. His mouth twitched upward at the thought.

"What's so funny, Darce?" Chris asked. He had finally put the computer down and was leaning back in his chair, arms stretched above him and head leaned back on them. They were old friends, Chris and Will. Chris was the one person Will knew he could trust implicitly.

"I don't know," Will shrugged. "Do you think they're going to give us stillsuits?"

"I think they're going to punch you in the face if you start making _Dune _jokes just because this is a desert planet. Scientist they're…touchy."

Will smiled. "I was actually wondering if they were going to welcome us with picket signs."

"Wouldn't that be something?" Chris grinned. "Well, only one way to find out. Ready?"

Will adjusted his tie. He took another look out the window at the empty brown planet they were on. He thought, without malice, simply in a matter-of fact way: _three scientists. What do they matter? _He almost wondered, as Caroline had wondered, why he had come. But of course, he probably wouldn't have if things were not so dicey on Bisbee.

"Let's go," he said to Chris. Chris pushed himself out of his chair and, computer in hand again, he and Will made their way to docking bay.

From there he and Chris would take a dune buggy out to the station (for surely he didn't need to be accompanied by an entourage of staffers to meet three scientists). They would meet Elizabeth Bennett, Charlemagne Lucas, and Janie Bloom. They would shake the scientists' hands, express interest and admiration towards their work, and be shown around. Then they would sit down and explain to them what to expect from the military arrival.

Will Darcy always knew what to expect. Only once had life managed to surprise him, and the experience had not been pleasant. He made it a habit to be on top of things.

Three things William Darcy did not expect on his first day on Maia:

He did not expect it to be so hot. Of course he expected it to be hot on a desert planet, but not so hot that he felt his pores melting away.

He did not expect Chris to be so adept at driving a dune buggy; but then, Chris was a man of many hidden talents.

And he did not expect to be greeted at the Maia space station by a pair of fiery brown eyes and a mountain of curls on top of a petite but powerful frame, from which a hand was thrust towards him like a challenge.

He shook the hand.

"Mr. Darcy," she said. "I'm Elizabeth Bennett."

No indeed. William Darcy was not expecting Elizabeth Bennett at all.

* * *

**A/N: **I must thank everyone for you gracious reviews, some of which were particularly helpful as I've been forming these characters in my mind. I've only read a few of the modernized P&P's out there, but I think this might be a little looser than some...I'm taking a broad plot-arche approach rather than a scene-by-scene approach. Hope everyone enjoys!


	3. Part I, Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Three hours later.

Will Darcy had returned to his chambers on the government spacecraft to take a tepid shower and to collect and organize his thoughts. He was reconvening shortly with Elizabeth Bennett to carefully go over the military settlement, what it meant for everyone involved, and to hear her concerns. The Bennett girl, he had discerned, was the most concerned of the three. She also seemed to be sort of in charge of things, officially or otherwise. At any rate, when he had suggested he and Elizabeth Bennett talk things over man to man, everyone took it as a given that this was what should be done. Evidently he had hit the right note.

His first meeting with the scientists had, he thought, gone well. He had shaken the hand that Elizabeth Bennett thrust towards him and then the hands of her companions. Then he'd spent the next two hours being show the station, the labs, the projects, and acting impressed (it wasn't hard—everything was genuinely impressive). He had also been making a survey of their characters.

Will was not worried about Char Lucas. He seemed a reasonable and pragmatic sort of person, with a bent towards irony, but nothing more dangerous than that. Eco-terrorism had probably been a phase or a mistake.

Janie Bloom, it was worth noting, was a first-class brain transported into the body of a supermodel. Which seemed unfair to someone. Possibly to Chris, who'd been somewhat flustered by the combination. She was also quiet, so quiet that Will couldn't get a read on her. By all outward appearance, she was merely sweet and reserved. But Will didn't trust outward appearances. He didn't trust what people weren't saying.

Elizabeth Bennett had done the most talking, had been polite but not friendly, certainly not _warm_. They had spoken mostly about the scientific work on Maia, but when conversation had strayed to the military settlement she had used diplomatic words like "apprehensive" but had been clear where she stood on the issue. She was articulate. She kept pulling her hair back like she wasn't used to it.

Will had several working theories:

_1. Elizabeth Bennett was an anarchist. _

For the most part, yes, she had been diplomatic. But there had been a comment. He didn't even remember what had been said to prompt it, but he remembered Elizabeth's reply.

"Some people don't think Earth should be governing the Outer Colonies at all," she had said breezily, and then had continued on about the stations water recycling system as if the comment had not been made at all.

But Will Darcy had taken note.

Mostly likely, she wasn't actually an anarchist. She was probably something less extreme—anti-Earth government or anti-military. Either way, she was something troublesome.

_2. Elizabeth Bennett was a humorless drone._

This had been his first impression. She had given pills to himself and Chris, explaining that they lowered body temperature in the ungodly heat of the planet. "You won't sweat when you're outside," she said. "Saves water, which is important on this planet."

It wasn't even that funny, but Will could not get _stillsuits _out of his head. He was smiling as he took the pill. Elizabeth's raised eyebrows seemed to ask him why.

"It's just…" he said, veering momentarily out of professionalism, "have you ever read _Dune_?"

"Yes," she had said, and offered no further comment. Will was disappointed. He stuck to professionalism after that.

(Lucas, however, had merrily interjected: "The distillery is downstairs, where we boil the water out of our dead.")

_3. Elizabeth Bennett was a spectacular human being._

He could quote no anecdote. There was no proof. But no matter how many times he tried to cross it off of his mental list, it popped back up. It disturbed him. He didn't know why.

But she said what she meant, and he liked people who said what they meant.

Showered and re-suited, Will Darcy wandered out of his own room with no particular destination in mind. He thought about looking for Chris, or even Caroline. He was tired of his own thoughts. He figured if he headed for the conference room, someone would find him. Caroline did, soon enough.

"I'm starting to think you and Christian mean to lock me up in this ship for the entire month long," she said. She always came in doors without knocking or waiting for invitation. It was part of her sense of entitlement. But then, Will had nothing in front of him to give the appearance of business and wanted company.

He said, "You can go wherever you like, although there aren't many places to go and it's very hot. I'll have to bring you some of those body-altering pills."

She wrinkled her nose. "Sounds dangerous."

"Your brother and I took them without question, so let's hope not."

"I like my body," she said.

He took this as a matter of course. That is, he ignored it.

She tried again: "Anyway, what are they like? Un-groomed and socially maladjusted?"

On second thought, Will should've gone to find Chris. This was worse than having his own thoughts for company. He didn't want to talk about the scientists. He realized, suddenly, that what he wanted most was for it to be over with. He wanted the meeting with Elizabeth Bennett to be over with, the trip to New Bisbee to be over with, the month on Maia, the next three years of running errands for President Catherine de Bourgh while she held her daughter in front of him like a carrot.

He had his own ambitions. He had a good shot at the presidency without marrying Anne de Bourgh, and all he was going to take it. And he wanted the waiting to be over with.

He said to Caroline, "They were more groomed that I was, after I'd lost half of my body weight in sweat on the way over. Go see for yourself. Chris will take you round some time. You might like the one of them—Janie Bloom. She's very pretty."

Will hadn't said _pretty _to make Caroline jealous, but she looked jealous and said something caddy that Will's subconscious filtered out. He had only said _pretty _because it seemed like one of the primary qualities Caroline admired.

"Have you seen Chris?" he asked abruptly.

She tried to hide her annoyance with a joke. "You and Chris. Sometimes you're like your own boys club, and I'm not invited."

"We work for a woman," he said.

Caroline was silent. He felt apologetic. This was becoming a pattern—Caroline irritated him, he was short, she was peeved, he was sorry. He threw her a bone. "One of them is coming here. I think she's an anarchist."

Chris had found them, had stopped in the doorway upon hearing this comment. He shook his head. "They're not anarchists, Darce."

"The pretty one?" Caroline asked.

"No," Will said. It felt like lying.

"They're both pretty," said Chris.

Will suddenly found himself remembering the way Chris had been looking at Janie Bloom, and how uncharacteristically quiet he had been during the tour. These were telltale signs. "Don't start, man," he heard himself pleading. "Not now. There are pretty girls everywhere."

Chris refused to be serious. He replied, "It would put the long in long distance. Anyway, do you want me for Elizabeth Bennett or will this be a true _tete-a-tete_? In my opinion, it should be the later. That's not laziness speaking; it's a professional opinion."

Will smiled. "I'll go it alone."

"Brave man."

Caroline looked bored. She said to Chris, "William thinks I'd like Janie Bloom." Sometimes she called him William. Other than news reporters, she was the only person in the world who did anymore.

His father had always called him William. So had George.

Will brought his mind sharply back to the present and heard Chris saying moonily that anyone would like Janie Bloom. _Good lord_, Will thought, _this too._

It was almost time. Elizabeth Bennett—anarchist, humorless drone, magnificent human being—whoever she was, she would be there soon.

* * *

Elizabeth had been on many spaceships. Her childhood had been spent on them, military ships for the most part. But she had been on government ships and civilian ships too. She was never overwhelmed by them, nor was she underwhelmed. They merely didn't register for her, unless they had Earth rooms, and most government ships didn't have Earth rooms. Spaceships, she theorized, were a guy thing. Like cars. She would run the theory by Char. He would call her sexist.

She wasn't nervous about having a discussion with Will Darcy. She had met him and, like a spaceship, found him neither over- nor underwhelming. He was more good-looking in person, Char had pointed out afterwards. It couldn't be denied, with his dark eyes and dark hair, just long enough to curl slightly. He had started to make a joke about _Dune_, which, if not exactly original, had almost been cute.

But for the most part, he kept himself under wraps. He was a politician, and Elizabeth knew they were only seeing the Will Darcy that Will Darcy wanted them to see, a lacquered and depersonalized version. It was impossible to like such a person, because such a person was not a real person. In her opinion, it was also impossible to be intimidated.

Christian Bingley met her as she entered the government craft. He said, without any other introduction, "What I find fascinating about these pills you gave us is they don't have any affect when I'm in the air conditioning. I expected I'd have to bundle up."

This was a more talkative Christian Bingley than Elizabeth had met before, and she was prone to like him. "They only adjust you when you need it. Their Jane's work, mostly. She can explain best."

"Adjust me," he laughed. "I'm being tampered with and I don't even mind. You could've given us poison and we would've just taken it, I think. Darcy's in the conference room, come on." He lead the way.

"By the way, are you anarchists?" he asked conversationally as they walked.

She was not offended. He was charming; she did like him. "If we were, I suppose we would've poisoned you, Mr. Bingley."

"If you were smart anarchists anyway. And just Chris, please. We're going to be here for a month, you know." He led her into a room, where Will Darcy sat a conference table. A girl was sitting in the chair beside him. Will Darcy stood and so did the girl. Her chin had an upward tilt.

"My sister Caroline," Christian Bingley explained. "And this is Elizabeth Bennett, not an anarchist."

Will Darcy gave Chris a look. Caroline said, "Hi," and then, "I'll get out of your way." She left, and so did Chris. Darcy motioned for her to sit down. She did; he followed.

"Thanks for coming," he said, as if she were doing him the favor.

_Politician_, she thought. She noticed: Will Darcy's conference room was full of books. She wondered if they were actually his.

Darcy continued, "We know you have concerns about the military being stationed here, and I'm more than happy to hear them and take them back to President de Bourgh. But to frank, Miss Bennett, as far as the present goes it's out of my hands. They _are_ coming tomorrow."

It was infuriating, the way these people worked. They stonewalled you for months when something could be done to stop or alter things. When they were finally willing to listen, it was inevitably too late to do anything. You were expected to be mollified by the listening.

"Yes, we have concerns," she said crisply.

He began his speech, the same one she had been hearing on the news channels for months. "The Ceres war is getting closer and closer to the Outer Colonies, dangerously close. And your planet, Maia, is the closest. The military is being sent here as protection, for you. And the rest of the planets. If the war gets any closer, you won't be able to keep doing the work you're doing here without danger."

"It's not protection for us," she snorted. She had meant to stay civil, but he was making her angry. "If you put the military here, you will bring the war here. The reason we've been left alone until now is because there is no military. There's no reason to bring the war here. You're giving them a reason."

He remained impervious. "You're the only planet in the outer colonies that holds that opinion." (He was referring to her as a planet, she noticed.) "New Bisbee is asking for military protection."

"And New Bisbee is more important than us."

He sidestepped the challenge. "The mining done on New Bisbee is vital everyone. We're not just protecting the Colonies by sending the military here, we're protecting the economy of the entire Earth Empire."

"At our expense. How very utilitarian."

Darcy held his palms up, as if to say, _there you have it. _She hadn't meant utilitarian as a complement. She could see she was getting no where with him. He had a very set position (whether it was his own, or the position dictated to him) and he refused to get anything close to emotional. She realized she was getting emotional, checked herself, and tried a different approach.

"If Bisbee wants the military, send the military to Bisbee."

"The unions. It's impossibly difficult," he explained, voice suddenly sounding weary. It was the first time that he had sounded anything, and so she believed him. Anyway, she had suspected that would be true. The unions wanted the protection, but didn't want the military actually there. She saw why they were coming to Maia, but she was still not willing to accept it.

"I hear they're using our water recycling system on the military ships that are coming here," she said.

"Yes, I believe they are," Darcy said cautiously, thrown by the abrupt change in subject.

She attacked. "The government sent us here to make this planet livable specifically _so that _they could send military ships here if it became necessary to protect New Bisbee. Nobody told us that. We were left completely in the dark, doing the research that makes it possible for the military to even come here, only to have our research yanked out from under our feet by government bureaucrats so far removed from the Outer Colonies they have to travel four days through hyperspace to get here."

He was silent and stared at her, hands on the table in front of him, dark eyes unreadable. When he finally spoke, his first words surprised her. "You're right," he said. But then he continued: "It is a utilitarian decision, and it should be. I'm sorry you and your colleagues are upset about the military settlement—genuinely, I am—and I understand your concerns. But frankly, I think you're looking at this from a very narrow perspective, and I don't have that privilege. I have to think universally."

Elizabeth was partly insulted, partly triumphant that she had caused finally Will Darcy to snap. Although his statements had been delivered with the same even tone he seemed to always use, she could sense the frustration beneath. Also he had called her narrow-minded. The insulted part of her said, "How lucky the universe has you looking out for it."

Will Darcy appeared to be biting something back. Whether it would've come out or not, Elizabeth would never know. There was a knock at the door, and Chris entered. He said to Darcy, "You have a satellite call from the President."

Darcy looked at him, annoyed. "Urgent?"

"Sorry, yes."

Darcy apologized to her, said they could pick up later, Chris would arrange it. Chris walked her out and filled her in on when the military was arriving the next day, and that of course they wanted her and Janie and Char along to meet them. She managed to log the essentials of what Chris was saying, but her brain was clouded with a particularly dark cloud of rage.

She hated William Darcy. Hated him.

* * *

Will was waiting for Chris when he came back from showing Elizabeth Bennett out. "There was no call," he said.

"I was listening through the intercom," Chris admitted, without embarrassment. "It wasn't going well."

Will had already figured this was the case, and had decided he wasn't cross. "Thanks," he said. And then laughed. "I don't think I'll have her vote."

Chris shrugged. "Even Will Darcy can't win them all."

**

* * *

****A/N: Reviewwwwwwwwwww! Please? Pretty please? Also, along with P&P, I don't own **_**Dune….**_**sadly, because it is one of the greatest things in life. **


	4. Part I, Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

"You know," Janie said, "after five years of nothing, every day is suddenly very eventful." She was standing in front of the closet she and Elizabeth shared, shrewdly examine her wardrobe choices.

As far as wardrobe went, Elizabeth had already given up and donned white tank top and a loose-fitting pair of kaki cargos. She was well aware now that Will Darcy was going not going to help them. He didn't take them seriously, and wearing business clothing wasn't going to change his mind.

Janie had other reasons for worrying about her clothes, reasons that neither of them mentioned and probably neither would. But Elizabeth had noticed the way Chris had looked at Janie the day before, and she reckoned Janie had too.

Elizabeth liked Chris. She approved.

"It's true," Elizabeth said, pulling her hair into a messy bun. "But Lydia's coming today. At least some of the eventful is good."

She meant it. Although Lydia might give them some trouble and she had no idea how she was going to entertain her for three months, Elizabeth found herself excited that her sister was coming. They hadn't spent any real time together during the five years Elizabeth had been on Maia. Lydia had never come out before of course, and Elizabeth had only been back to Earth once. They had never been as close as some sisters, but they were friends.

Char knocked on their door. "You ladies ready?" he asked.

Janie sighed and looked helplessly at Elizabeth. With a laugh, Elizabeth walked over and stood beside her in front of the closet. She pulled out a blue blouse and a gray skirt, then laughed again. "Why did we even bring these clothes?" she asked, handing the selections to Janie.

"For moments like these, I suppose. You never know when next president of the Earth empire and an entire battalion of soldiers is going to descend upon you."

Elizabeth added, her mouth twitching upward mischievously, "And Christian Bingley." Janie pretended like this meant nothing to her, and Elizabeth left to join Char in the main room. He was watching the news. She sat down beside him.

They watched the news, didn't they? Fairly regularly? Elizabeth had been thinking about what Will Darcy had said yesterday. He had said her perspective was narrow, as if by being on Maia too long she had lost touch with the rest of the galaxy. She wanted to think it wasn't true, but maybe it was. It bothered her to think that Will Darcy even might be right.

* * *

They met the scientists in docking bay. They had two dune buggies to take them to the landing spot, where the military ships had already set down. Elizabeth, Will noted, was no longer dressed up in a business but wearing what he guessed was her everyday costume. She was holding a light jacket, despite the heat.

It was Chris who made mention of the jacket. "Now you're just bragging," he said, pointing.

Elizabeth was momentarily confused, then her eyes brightened and she laughed delightedly. "I told you, the pills are mostly Janie's work. She'll tell you about them."

The comment led to Chris procuring Janie as his passenger, leaving Will with Char and Elizabeth and no experience driving the machine. But Elizabeth was looking it over with an adventurous glint in her eyes.

"Can I drive it?" she asked.

She already disliked him. He handed her the keys.

He made no reference to their argument the day before on the drive, but instead talked to them about General Howard. Char had asked what the man in charge of the military was like. And Will, who had met General Howard on a few occasions, was glad to be able to tell them that he was reliable and solid man without visions of grandeur who would certainly do everything he could to keep the defensive outpost on Maia from turning into an offensive front. He spoke mostly to Char. Elizabeth was quiet. She seemed to be enjoying her position behind the wheel.

When she made a comment it was to Char, "General Howard sounds like a man who was probably able to keep Lydia out of trouble on the trip out."

"If any man could," Char said.

Elizabeth offered an explanation to Will: "My sister. God love her, she's a handful."

They reached the landing site without much event, and Elizabeth stopped the buggy beside Chris's already parked vehicle. "I've a knack for this," she announced, cheerfully to Chris and Janie. To Chris she added, "You ought to leave me one."

Will was smiling, in spite of himself.

They made their way towards the military ship in front of them. Will felt suddenly optimistic. The morning had already been more pleasant than yesterday. He was confident about General Howard. He was exactly the man for the job, and Elizabeth would see so and like him. Will felt it within his power yet to win her over. And he very much wanted to win her over.

Then the bomb.

It was not General Howard who stepped out of the military ship. It was George.

* * *

General Howard was younger than Elizabeth had imagined him. In fact, he was nothing like Darcy's description of a sturdy, experienced old-guard type. He had spectacularly blue eyes and a rakish, crooked grin. He looked like he was Darcy's age exactly, certainly no older. He had an air of confidence, but of a different kind than Darcy's cold self-possession. General Howard confidence seemed more playful. She could tell by looking at him, he was a more approachable sort of person.

The general, as they approached, focused immediately in on Darcy, and said with his blue eyes flashing, "William!"

Elizabeth had forgotten about Darcy while she studied the new arrival. Darcy didn't respond to the greeting, his silence prompting Elizabeth to look his way more than any reply would have. He was staring at General Howard, an expression on his face that Elizabeth could not decipher. His lips were pressed tightly together; the muscles in his neck were tense. A moment passed long enough to make his lack of response seem significant.

But then Chris took over, and the moment was swept aside. He said, his tone friendly enough, "Bloody surprised to see you here, Wickham."

Apparently, it was not General Howard.

"It is the oddest place for a reunion," Wickham mused. He didn't answer the question as to why he was there in the place of General Howard but continued jauntily, "But you two are quite the galaxy travels these days, aren't you? I'm sure you were sure you would bump into me somewhere along the way. How's the little sis anyway, William? Quite the smash down there on Earth from what I hear."

"Gianna is fine, thanks. Much better than when you saw her last," said Darcy, who had recovered himself and spoke with his usual detached inflection.

Wickham merely laughed.

They knew each other, evidently. But Elizabeth knew there was more than that. Something had happened which she didn't quite understand. Even during their argument yesterday, she had never been able to throw Darcy of off his game the way Wickham had by merely saying his name.

The Chris reclaimed dominance over the conversation, introducing General Wickham to the scientist. He said a few things about meetings and schedules and protocols. Elizabeth wasn't really paying attention. She was watching Darcy. He had retreated into himself again, said nothing, looked at nothing, seemed to be paying as much attention as Elizabeth was to what was being said around him.

She was startled to suddenly hear Chris make some kind of apology to Wickham and announce that they had a satellite conference with the President that unfortunately called them away. He promised they would meet the next day to go over the military situation on Maia more carefully. Elizabeth had been under the impression that the whole meeting would take much longer. No one had mentioned a satellite conference before.

Will Darcy shook Wickham's hand and was the first to head back towards the buggies. Elizabeth hesitated. She had come with Darcy but was unsure whether she was meant to leave with him. She looked at Chris, who seemed to have the best handle of the situation.

"You seemed like an ace at the dune buggy. I guess I can trust you to drive yourselves back," he said congenially, and handed her the keys. He similarly shook Wickham's hand and departed, with a look thrown in Janie's direction but no more.

Elizabeth watched them go, confused and curious. It occurred to her that they were going to leave in the buggy she had driven with Will, where she had left her jacket. "Just a second," she said to the three people still standing on the landing spot, and went bounding after the two retreating figures. As she approached them, she slowed her pace to a walk. She did not mean to eavesdrop. She could not help it that they did not hear her behind them.

Will said, voice tense, "Christian…."

"If I'd known, you don't think I would've told you?"

"It's your fucking job to know."

Elizabeth stopped, turned around, and began her return to the landing spot. She did not want to hear more. She would get her jacket later.

"What was that all about?" Char asked, eyebrows raised, when she reached the group once again.

"Nothing," she said. "Thought I'd left something. Get it later." She shrugged, and turned to the mysterious Wickham. "You have something for me, don't you?"

"I do indeed," he replied. "Come on, we'll find her." He gestured toward the inside of his ship.

It was decided, after a moment, that Janie and Char would go back in the dune buggy. Wickham ("Just George if you like," he said) said that he would drive Elizabeth and Lydia back in a jeep in a bit. Lydia had too much luggage for the dune buggy anyway, he explained. Elizabeth didn't doubt it at all. So Janie and Char left, and she followed him inside.

"I knew you were Elizabeth straight off when I saw you. You look like your sister," he told her, leading down a cramped hallway.

"Thanks. People think she's pretty," Elizabeth said. There was something about this George Wickham that opened her up. She felt playful, a little flirty. She had all but forgotten the conversation she just overheard, or the strange look on Darcy's face during the initial meeting. She was very much inclined to like George.

He laughed. She liked his laugh. "So has she behaved?" she asked, herself smiling.

He took her elbow to lead her around a corner then continued to hold on to it. "I'm just going to confess, Elizabeth Bennett, because I think I might love you and I don't think we should start this relationship with lies. I turned a blind eye. There were probably some shenanigans. But what can I say? I just didn't want to know."

"That's seems like a wise system," she said. His hand was warm against her.

"I suppose there's a fine line between wise and irresponsible. At any rate, she's in one piece. But maybe slightly less virginal."

"Oh trust me, Lydia did not enter this ship virginal," Elizabeth said. Her mind, momentarily muddled by the flirting and pressure of George Wickham's hand, was beginning to regain a proper train of thought. The strangeness of the meeting between Darcy and Wickham began to return to her. She found herself asking, "Anyway, what exactly is it you've done to Will Darcy?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said jovially, although he clearly did know what she was talking about and probably wanted her to press for details.

"How do you know him? Chris too."

"School," he said simply. In an effort to distract her, he pointed to a door a few feet ahead of them and said it was Lydia's.

Elizabeth's curiosity was still piqued. She gave it another shot. "Oh come on, what was it? You stole his girlfriend? He paid you to do his homework?"

George ignored her completely and knocked on Lydia's door. She understood that it was going to be a game between them. He wanted her to keep guessing. She didn't mind at all.

The door was opened by a similarly petite frame that certainly did look like a relative of Elizabeth's, except that her hair was shorter and currently dyed a very flamboyant shade of orange-red.

"Oh my God, Lizzie, I'm here!" Lydia shrieked, and threw herself into Elizabeth's arms, nearly knocking them both over.

All of this, much to the amusement of the smirking George Wickham.

* * *

There was no satellite call with the President. Will sat alone in the conference room, looking at nothing. His mind was full of many things, most of them things that had happened two years ago. Things he tried not to think about.

The door opened. He prayed it wasn't Caroline. He couldn't deal with that now. Fortuantely it was Chris.

"Alright," he said, walking in computer in hand. "I just got off the satellite. It was a last minute replacement. Apparently, General Howard just spent a week of leave with his family on Caprina and is down with cholera. He's fine; they're giving him ORT, but—"

"Cholera? Really?" Will interrupted.

"There's an outbreak on some of those Far-West planets. Anyway, so the hire-ups sent Wickham. Thought you'd be pleased, considering your history."

"Our history," Will said, halfway between bitterness and laughing. "Fucking cholera," he sighed. He was aware that Chris was watching him, but did not look up. He simply waited for his friend to speak. It was incredible how tired he was.

"I never asked, but I did wonder…" Chris paused, and began again. "Have you had any contact with him since?"

Will shook his head, sighed, and leaned back in his chair. He finally meet Chris look, and read the concern he expected to find there. He knew that Chris had handled the morning much better than he'd been able to, and that he owed him some kind of apology. "I think I got a bit short this morning," he began.

Chris waved him off. Will, who didn't do apologies well, was relieved. Chris sat down at a chair opposite and placed his computer on the table between them. After a pause, he said, "He's not your brother, Darce."

It was true, and it was not true. Will Darcy and George Wickham were not brothers, in the technical, blood-related sense. But in another sense they were. They had grown up like brothers. Will's father had all but officially adopted George when he and Will had both been seven. And with that kind of far-reaching history, a lack of blood-relation didn't seem like the deciding factor.

"That's easy enough to say—" Will began, but Chris cut him off.

"That not what I meant. I didn't mean he was never your brother. I just mean, he was and he chose not to be."

Will supposed that was a way of looking at it, although at the moment he was having trouble compartmentalizing. "He's not sorry at all, is he?" he asked, shaking his head. "Anyway, we're only here a month."

Chris nodded his agreement. He added, "I thought you were going to hit him when he mentioned Gianna."

Will had thought he was going to hit him too. He wasn't sure how he had restrained himself. Suddenly, he laughed out loud. "You know, I thought this was going to be a nice, easy month. Now I've got Elizabeth Bennett, who I'm pretty sure hates me, and George. Of all people, George."

"Speaking of Elizabeth, Caroline wants to meet the scientists. I'm taking her over later tonight. Don't suppose you want to come along."

Will saw Elizabeth in his mind—her brilliant laugh at Chris's joke, her quietness on the drive to the landing spot while wind blew strands of hair of her ponytail, her warm smile and bright eyes as she shook George's hand. Did he want to go along?

"No thanks," he said, and left it at that.

**

* * *

****A/N: Thanks to my reviewers! Please keep reviewing. I will give you cookies.**

(**Linnath: **To respond to your review of my other story…yes I know I need to return to it. Never fear, I have not abandoned it completely. What can I tell you? I have a thing for Captain Jack, haha (looooove Torchwood). As for season 5 of Doctor Who, I quite liked it! I was not sure how I was going to feel about Matt Smith after David Tennant (sigh David Tennant) but Matt Smith is rather brilliant. And I like the genuine love story with Amy and Rory.)


	5. Part I, Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Lydia was in a very good mood for a girl who had just gotten shipped to the end of the galaxy. Elizabeth, who had been anticipating three months of sullenness, was thankful for at least this one benefit from the military invasion. She reckoned she would tell that to George Wickham. He seemed like the type who would appreciate the humor.

"For real, I thought this summer was going to be totally lame and awful. No offense guys," Lydia was saying from her position Indian-style on the couch. Wickham was gone, and it was just down to the four of them for the moment—Elizabeth, Lydia, Janie, and Char. Elizabeth's parents were on the satellite. For the first time in forever, her whole family was all present in one form or another. She felt that warm-glow feeling in her stomach.

Lydia continued, "But I met these guys on the way over—totally sweet. I mean, just nice guys and, okay, totally hot. And freaking Will Darcy is here too? Is there anyone in the galaxy more delicious?"

Robert Bennett, on the satellite screen, was looking physically pained. "Lydia, please. You are not there to chase boys."

Lydia rolled her eyes as if to say, _what else am I supposed to do?_ And Rose Bennett, never helpful during these conversations, interjected, "At least one of my daughters understands what a first-rate catch Will Darcy would be." She sent Elizabeth a meaningful glare.

But Elizabeth, still in warm-glow mode, was not even bothered by this. She said lightly, "I don't care if Will Darcy is delicious_. _He's the last man in the universe I'd shackle myself to. If you want him, Lydia, you can have him."

"Thanks, Liz" Lydia said.

"Lydia, you cannot have him," Rose Bennett said. "You have plenty of time to find your own husband. How many chances do you think your sister is going to have on that planet?"

"Well, there is a whole army now," Robert said. His subtle sarcasm, as usual, was lost on his wife, who began to regale Elizabeth, Janie,_ and _Char with a lecture about how they were all going to end up alone and unmarried if they didn't open the door when opportunity came knocking. Elizabeth looked helplessly from Janie to Char. Janie's approach was simply to smile and nod. Char was trying his best not to laugh.

Fortunately, opportunity did knock and interrupt this diatribe. Or Christian Bingley, anyway. Janie had told them his sister Caroline wanted to meet everyone, something about her getting bored on the ship by herself. Elizabeth may have doubted the sincerity of Caroline's interest in them—she had met Caroline only briefly, but Caroline had not been interested. Yet she did welcome the excuse to tell her mother they all had to go. Not that she didn't love hearing the marriage lecture every now and then.

"Do you think he's got Will Darcy with him?" Lydia asked. They had turned off the satellite, and Janie had gone to get the door.

"Oh hell, I hope not," Elizabeth said. She hadn't considered that possibility. She'd had enough Will Darcy for one day, thank you very much.

"What's so bad about him, anyway?" Lydia asked Char.

He shrugged. "Nothing if you ask me, but he's definitely got your sister's panties in a bunch."

"He's no where near my panties," Elizabeth grumbled. "Nor will he ever be."

"Shame," Char shrugged. Elizabeth, half-laughing, grabbed the nearest item and threw it at him. It happened to be one of Lydia's flip-flops, but her aim was so bad that it landed benignly on the floor. Char said, "Will Darcy is a little bit stuffy, that much I'll admit."

Then Janie returned with their visitors, and although Will Darcy was not among them, conversation about him ceased. Chris, charming as ever, went round with introductions, and Elizabeth introduced her sister to him. She also took the opportunity to get a good look at Caroline. She was tall like her brother, but less blonde. She also smiled a lot less. But she was gorgeous, sort of regal looking. And she was clearly aware of it.

And she was clearly not interested in them, except to turn her nose up at them. "Isn't this quaint?" she said, looking distastefully around the room. By the word _quaint _she clearly meant something more like _disgusting _or _shabby_. Elizabeth was beginning to wonder how the same parenting could've produced both Chris and Caroline.

They didn't stay long, fortunately. Elizabeth liked Chris's company, but he spent most of the time talking to Janie. Char and Lydia were entertaining each other, which left Elizabeth mainly talking to Caroline. It wasn't the most pleasant way to spend an evening. Caroline was genius at making the most subtle insults. So subtle, that you couldn't exactly call her out from them yet you knew you were being slighted.

So Elizabeth was glad when they were gone. It was Lydia who observed, when Janie was out of the room, "So Janie's really taking mom's whole marriage speech seriously, isn't she?"

Elizabeth grinned. "Her and Chris? It's obvious, right? I like him though. They're both so nice, they're perfect for each other."

"But his sister is a total biotch."

"I know. She's perfect for Will Darcy," Elizabeth replied. She shrugged and laughed. Lydia laughed too. Char just shook his head and warned Elizabeth that if she kept on like that, someday she might have to eat her words.

Elizabeth very much doubted that.

* * *

The next morning, Elizabeth set off on a mission to retrieve her jacket. She had left in Will Darcy's dune buggy. She would've just let him keep it, but it happened to be a favorite. Besides, she like a walk now and then, and to be honest, the space station with four people in it suddenly seemed a bit crowded. She figured she could get the jacket back without having to see Darcy. Surely one of his many staffers could help her.

Things were going swimmingly, until the nice kid to whom she had explained about the jacket led her to the docking bay. Will Darcy was across the room, talking on a satellite phone. He saw her, waved and held a finger as if to say he would be with her in one minute. She didn't necessarily want him. Nevertheless, she waited while he finished his conversation. The kid who had led her to the docking bay abandoned her. And in a moment, hanging up the phone, Darcy made his way across the room.

"Miss Bennett, how can I help you?" he asked, standing stiffly in front of her in his suit-and-tie. With an inward sigh, Elizabeth noted how formal he sounded and how formal he looked. As always. She had never met such a remote personality.

"I just came for my jacket," she said.

"Right," he said. "You know, I think it's still in the buggy. Bingley has it if you want to wait. He should be back any minute; we're supposed to meet with General Wickham shortly." He spoke with business-like efficiency, even when mentioning Wickham. But then he slipped into a more casual tone to add, "Can't imagine where Chris is gone off too around here."

Elizabeth could imagine, but chose not to say. "Alright, I'll wait," she replied instead.

Darcy nodded. They stood together. The silence grew increasingly awkward, or at least so Elizabeth thought. She couldn't say if Darcy noticed. He was alternately staring at the open doorways of the docking bay and impatiently checking his phone.

"Small talk?" she suggested.

"Hmmm?" Darcy seemed to be jarred back to the present by her voice. "Sorry. I have a lot on my mind." He seemed to offer her his attention but said no more.

She tried again. "General Wickham was a last minute replacement, I take it?"

"Yes. Apparently General Howard came down with a bad case of cholera."

"Cholera?" she repeated.

"Believe it or not," he answered dryly. "Shame, really. Howard was a better man for the job. I'm afraid the Outer Colonies might prove to beyond Wickham's scope."

He annoyed her, as usual. She knew that he and Wickham had a history, whatever it was. And yet Darcy spoke of him with such a detached air, as if Wickham were not so much a person as he was a tool or a cog in the political machine that would eventually elect Darcy president. In fact, she was almost certain that was how Darcy thought of people, how he thought of everyone. It was part of his utilitarian principle.

Elizabeth was not known for keeping her thoughts to herself.

"You know, you accused me of having a narrow perspective." She paused to see if Darcy would apologize or recant. He said nothing, and she continued. "Well, maybe I do. But it seems to me there's a ditch on both sides of the rode."

"Is there?" he said. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and with that simple gesture he suddenly became a relatable person, a real person. He looked curious, and asked without caution, "So what's the ditch I'm in?"

"You're perspective is so…" she struggled for the word, making gestures with her hands,"…so _wide_ that you can't even see people as individuals anymore. Wickham, Howard, me and Janie and Char—we're all insignificant in the galactic scope of things, so we don't matter as far as you're concerned. You don't think in terms of human beings. You just think in terms of planets and voting blocks and populations."

There she stopped and waited for his response. Unlike the last time they'd argued, Elizabeth had managed to explain herself calmly and matter-of-factly. She was rather proud of that.

He said, "And that's what you meant when you called me utilitarian." She nodded. He seemed to be thinking. Then suddenly he said, "Come to New Bisbee."

Elizabeth was surprised. In fact, Darcy seemed a little surprised by his own invitation. But he soldiered on, as if to convince himself as well as her. "No, you really should be there. The situation on Bisbee affects you as much as anyone. More than anyone. The unions are why the military is in the Outer Colonies in the first place and why it's here instead of there. You deserve the chance to talk to them directly. To hear and be heard."

She didn't know how to respond. She'd been sure Darcy didn't take her or any of her concerns seriously. Yet here was a surprisingly decent offer.

"Are you trying to broaden my perspective?" she asked. "Bring me over to your side?"

"I don't know," he said. He shook his head. "No. I don't really think I could ever change your mind about anything."

His eyes had wandered from her to the docking bay doors. Following his gaze, she saw that Chris was approaching in the Dune buggy. She was still mulling over his invitation, and was almost startled when he spoke again.

"And frankly, if you want to know, I don't trust George Wickham. As an individual human being. And I have good reason not to."

Her mind was racing. She wanted to ask: _who is he? what happened? _But Chris had reached them and parked his vehicle. It was almost as if Darcy had waited to make this last statement until she wouldn't have time to press for details or say anything else on the subject. Darcy, at any rate, moved smoothly away from it. He said to Chris, "Miss Bennett came for her jacket."

Chris laughed. "Funny thing, I just ran it back over to your station."

"That's fine," Elizabeth said. "Fine," she repeated.

"Well, we'll drop you back at least," Chris offered amiably.

"No," Elizabeth said, the rejection coming out of her mouth more vehemently that she'd intended. She felt puzzled and flustered. She added as an explanation, "I like the walk."

Darcy was getting into the buggy. He ignored or didn't notice her awkwardness. He simply glanced up at her and said, "We leave at seven o'clock tomorrow."

She nodded and watched them drive away.

* * *

"What was that about?" Chris asked, as they drove away.

Will couldn't really say. What had that been about? One minute Elizabeth Bennett had been calling him a soulless politician with no concept of humanity, the next he had been inviting her on trips.

"I think Elizabeth Bennett is coming to New Bisbee," he said. For it was too late now to un-invite her without proving her partially right.

"What fun," Chris said. Was that sarcasm? Or did he mean it? Why couldn't he tell the difference?

He was completely off of his game, that was why. And the thing was, Will didn't know whether to blame it more on George or Elizabeth.

**

* * *

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**A****/N: Shorter chapter. Next one should be longer. Please review! If I only get 3 reviews again, I will have to drown my sorrows with Carey Grant movies and Diet Coke.**


	6. Part I, Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Elizabeth returned to the station ready to do some serious work. Ever since the arrival of Will Darcy and the military, progress on projects had ceased for the sake of dealing the new arrivals. As Char pointed out, their garden was beginning to look neglected. Elizabeth saw it as precursor to what would happen when George Wickham's army brought the war to Maia. She was still convinced that that was inevitable.

The garden was her baby, much like the water recycling system they used in the station was Char's. And it _was _beginning to look neglected, which made her sad. She planned to spend the rest of the morning tidying things up, without distraction.

But she was thinking about New Bisbee. Elizabeth was not a politician. She could hold her own with Will Darcy (sort of) but that did not mean she was equipped to take on union leaders. Yet how could she not go? Darcy thought her perspective was narrow. If she stayed on Maia when he offered her an opportunity to broaden her view of the situation, she would be proving him right. At least, so he would assume.

She went inside to find Janie and Char. Char was in the main room making his lunch. "Where's Janie?" she asked.

"Lab," he said.

"Where's Lydia?"

"Lydia I've lost."

"Great," Elizabeth sighed. This of course meant Lydia had found her way over to the military ship, where there were boys. Elizabeth would deal with that later. "Come on, I need to talk to you and Janie."

They found Janie hard at work in the lab, and Elizabeth called the meeting to order. "Alright, here's the thing," she said. "Will Darcy invited me to go to New Bisbee with them. Tomorrow morning."

"Why?" Char asked. "Not to sound rude."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Because my concerns are valid and I deserve the right to be heard. Or something. Honestly, I don't really know why he asked." She paused and admitted, "It's a little intimidating."

"Janie will go with," Char suggested.

Elizabeth looked at Janie, who nodded. "Sure," she said. "Safety in numbers."

Elizabeth considered. She would very much like Janie along, although there were concerns about that as well. "You know this means you'll be alone with Lydia for a week. Who you've already proven you can't keep track of," she said to Char.

"I look forward to being the responsible adult," Char solemnly replied.

That was all it took for Elizabeth to acquiesce. "Okay. Tentatively, we'll say this is the plan."

"Guess we need to pack," said Janie. That sounded remarkably stressful. Lord knew how long it had been since they'd packed for anything.

"And I guess I'd better go find Lydia," Elizabeth said. However, she waited a few more hours before heading off, until she was fairly certain Will Darcy would be gone from the military premises. Not that she was avoiding him. The walk to the military base, when she finally undertook it, was longer than she's expected. Which spoke to Lydia's determination to find men.

At last, Elizabeth made it to the military base, and while she was still trying to explain to a particularly confused soldier who she was and who she was looking for, George Wickham came upon them.

"Elizabeth Bennett!" he said gleefully, dismissing the other soldier. "I've been waiting for you to come visit me."

"Don't get too excited," she said. "I've only come to collect my wayward sister."

"Sure, sure," he intoned, as if he did not believe her. "But if that's the story you're going with, we can at least wander around and pretend to look for her."

So once again, Elizabeth found herself wandering the halls of the military ship chatting with George Wickham. Finding Lydia did somehow seemed less important than it had only moment ago. She enjoyed his conversation. Suddenly she asked, "Do you have an Earth room?"

He nodded. "Best of the best. Ever seen one?"

Earth rooms had been developed thousands of years ago, when the Earth Empire was first beginning to expand across the galaxy. Soldiers on military ships had had difficulty adjusting to the strange planets on which they would spend years. To help with the adjustment, rooms had been built into the larger military ships which were small copies of Earth's ecosystem. It was indoor nature, a small piece of home for soldiers long away from it. Earth rooms had somehow remained standard on military ships through the years, although by now the vast majority of recruits were from planets away from Earth and had never seen the original homeland for themselves.

Elizabeth's story was similar to this. She nodded in answer to George's question. "My dad was a military man. He was stationed in the Outer Colonies until I was fifteen. I grew up in Earth rooms."

She knew they were no longer even pretending to look for Lydia, but headed for George Wickham's own Earth room. In a moment he had led her into it. Elizabeth's breath caught. He had not been joking about best of the best. The room seemed to contain an entire forest. The room had an effect on her like magic or seduction. She almost could have cried.

Still, her words were that of a scientist. "Okay," she said. "I know they've modified our water recycling system for this ship, but there is no way you're not losing water in here." She knew that Wickham was trying to impress her, and possibly he would be disappointed by this reaction. But it was her first thought.

He shrugged. "We might not be as self-sustaining in our water usage as your station is, but we're more self-sustaining than a ship of this size has ever been thanks to you. Besides," he grinned, "it's worth it, right?"

She had to admit that it was. "My parents live on Earth now. I went to university there. So, you know, I know my way around. But somehow an Earth room still seems more real to me than the real thing."

They wandered for a while, making occasional comments but there was no pressure to talk. Wickham said, eventually, "I heart you're growing plants here. How is that even possible?"

Of all the people who had landed on Maia at once, George Wickham was the fist to take a real interest in Elizabeth's work. She wasn't flattered so much as she was genuinely touched. He made her feel less marginal.

So she took the question seriously. "Believe it or not, there is a water table underneath all this sand. It's just way, way down there. We've altered the genetics of the plants. They require less water to begin with, and their roots are remarkably long. They can get what they need from the soil."

He seemed impressed as said as much, but still asked, "That can't be sustainable though. Won't you eventually milk the planet dry?"

She shrugged. "That would take a millennium at this rate. Besides, we don't know everything about Maia yet. Maybe it does rain, every thousand years or so."

"But if it rains, don't the worms die? And then there goes the spice trade."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. Apparently George could only be serious for so long. She didn't mind. "Everyone's a comedian with the _Dune _jokes," she said.

"I'm not the first?" He seemed disappointed. "Let me guess, Darcy beat me to it. He's the real Frank Herbert fan."

They had come to a bench under a particularly large maple. Elizabeth sat down. His mention of Darcy brought her back to Darcy's words that morning about George: that he didn't trust him. She didn't know who to believe, what to suspect. Darcy didn't seem to want to talk about George; George was constantly alluding to their shared history, practically begging for her to ask questions.

And so she asked. "I'm going to New Bisbee with the Darcy company tomorrow. Nothing you want to tell me before that?" She looked up at him and noticed, not for the first time, that he was really very handsome. Perhaps not as impossibly handsome as Will Darcy, but personality really leveled the playing field.

George had not sat down beside her but stood in front, idly playing with a low-hanging branch of the tree. He wasn't looking at her, and his response was inadequate: "Far be it from me to reveal the secrets of Will Darcy."

Elizabeth didn't buy that line for one minute. "Oh please. You're dying to."

"Look," he said. "We've got history, as I'm sure you've surmised, and I ended up on the screwed-over end of that history, but," he shrugged, "what can I say? I landed on my feet, and I don't wish the guy ill. Nor am I a gossip monger."

He stopped there and looked at her with either real or faked seriousness. She said, "You just want me to keep guessing, don't you?"

He broke into his cheeky grin. "It's more fun that way, isn't it?"

Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. "For you. How am I supposed to know which one of you to believe?"

Then George's manner shifted. There was something tense about him as he asked, "Why, what has he told you?"

"He doesn't trust you, you don't trust him, nobody tells me anything."

George was so quickly back to his normal, laid-back routine, that Elizabeth began to think she had imagined the tension. She didn't know who to believe, but she knew who she liked better, and thus she was prone to be lenient.

"Trust no one," George quipped. "But as you may have noticed, I am the more charming and personable of the two."

She laughed. "Indeed."

"Come on," he said, "we'd better find your sister."

* * *

6:30 am.

Will Darcy stood in the docking bay. He did not know if Elizabeth Bennett could come, but Chris had nevertheless volunteered to fetch her in one of the buggies. So Will waited to see if he would return with Elizabeth or alone. He hoped alone. He still wasn't sure what had possessed him to invite her, only that _possessed _was the right word.

He had enough on his plate without her, was all. Case in point: the meeting with George the previous morning had been one for the books. George had met him with the same infuriating combination of bravado and familiarity that he had the day before, like this was a throw back to the good old days. Like nothing had changed. Will endured it until they were in a room alone, just him and Chris and George. There was no one left to perform for. But George remained antagonistically friendly, going as far as to ask after Gianna again.

Will had stared him down. He said, "Let's be professional. Get this over with."

And miraculously, George had shut down the act and kept it business. Which was better, in one sense. But in another sense, it was still wrong. All bloody wrong. To be sitting across from George—his brother—talking strategies, and defensive positions, and Outer Colony politics as if they were two total strangers with only a job to do between them.

Still, Will was able to keep his walls up and his mind focused and businesslike. But then they were done, and as Will was leaving George said, "William."

Will was jolted enough by the name to stop and hear what came next.

George said, without irony as far as Will could detect, "I'm glad you're doing so well. Take that as you will."

Will did not reply because he didn't know how to. He left. Chris hadn't caught the exchange, and both avoided the topic of George Wickham on the way back. They talked about New Bisbee, or they didn't talk at all. But once back on the ship, Chris poured them both drinks.

"You're brooding," Chris said. "I knew you'd be brooding."

Will didn't drink much, but it seemed like an appropriate time. He accepted the glass from Chris. "I'm not brooding. I'm just contemplative." He sighed. Chris did not push but waited. Will said, "The thing is, I'll never know why he did it, will I? Why he turned on me like that. Or if he's sorry."

"Probably not," Chris replied.

Will took a long drink, and thought about that. He voiced his conclusion: "You just can't trust people."

"Some people you can."

But Will wasn't sure. After all, Chris was an incurable optimist. And after all, for years George had been the last person from whom Will expected betrayal. They'd defended each other in fights and watched soccer games and talked about girls. They'd argued about philosophy and politics and made fun of Jennings, the groundskeeper, when he wasn't looking. Will could not forget these things.

But there were other things he couldn't forget: the four months he'd spent looking for Gianna, without hope. Without any reason to believe he would see her again, that she hadn't been dumped into the Grid—an intergalactic prostitution ring, where he knew George had dumped women before.

If anyone could break your heart it was family. Will Darcy had a broken heart.

And so he was glad to be going to New Bisbee, and he was hoping Elizabeth Bennett would not come. Because he was vulnerable at the moment; he knew that. Old wounds had been reopened. And he had the strangest feeling, now that his guard was down, that if he was not careful this Bennett girl would also take a stab at him. He would rather spend the trip to Bisbee alone, putting his guard back up.

Unfortunately, Chris did not return to the docking bay by himself. He had not only Elizabeth Bennett, but Janie with him as well.

"Glad you came," he said to Elizabeth, a political lie. She was hoisting a bag out of the buggy, and he wondered if she was the type that would be insulted if he offered to help her.

She said, "Did have much of a choice, did I? You threw down the gauntlet."

She surely meant it as a joke, but Will was temporarily bereft of humor. He said, before thinking, "You needn't have come if you didn't want to."

And then he thought, _fuck_. But what was he going to do, take it back? Elizabeth turned away from him, affronted, and Will knew that helping her with her bag was no longer even a philosophical option.

"I hope you don't mind me tagging along," Janie said. Will assumed the comment was addressed to him, since it was abundantly clear that Chris didn't mind.

"Of course not. You're absolutely welcome," Will said, managing the politeness he hadn't with Elizabeth.

They showed them to their rooms to drop off the bags. Caroline soon made an appearance, apparently for no purpose other than to act generally disdainful and superior. Then Chris offered to show the girls around the ship. Will begged off on account of having work to do, which was actually the truth.

Caroline hung back long enough to say to him, "God, we've been invaded haven't we? I'm surprised the other one didn't come along too for the free meals."

"I would think you'd be happy for the company, Caroline," Will said wearily. "You're always complaining that Chris and I are too busy with work."

"I think you know this is not the solution I had in mind. There are plenty of things you and I could do for fun." She tossed her hair and was off, leaving him with the obvious suggestion.

_Good lord, _Will thought.

It was safe to say the trip to New Bisbee was not off to a fortuitous start.

* * *

**A/N: Woa, lots of diet coke hate there guys. Literally, I live off this stuff. Anyway, I was phenomenally excited by all the reviews. Thanks, guys! You are supremely awesome. And please keep reviewing –see? Reviews = quick chapters. This was mainly a Wickham one, but next time I promise lots of Will/Elizabeth interaction. Cheers!**


	7. Part I, Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Janie was almost immediately sick. The trip to New Bisbee was two days; she was in bed with a horrible cold halfway through the first, and only then did she admit to Elizabeth that she hadn't been feeling tops for a few days.

"We haven't been around other people's germs for awhile," Elizabeth told Chris, with a shrug. They were in the ship's industrial kitchen where Elizabeth was heating up a can of soup for Janie herself rather than bothering the cooking staff. Chris was sitting on a stainless steel counter across from her. She thought, with a smile, someone would have to sanitize that later.

"I feel terrible," Chris said, and clearly he did. Elizabeth had to remind him that it was just a cold. The soup was done, and she poured it into a bowl.

"Should you really be taking that to her? What if you get it too? Isn't your immune system just as weak?" Chris asked.

She shook her head. "I never get ill."

Chris hopped down from the counter. "Still, best not chance it. I mean, I've probably already had that cold."

She considered. "It probably is your cold."

"Right," Chris said, and reached for the soup. Elizabeth could not help but smile as she handed it to him. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Chris was proving to be quite the devoted nurse. It was cute.

As they left the kitchen, she asked him if there was a satellite screen somewhere where she could check on Char and Lydia. "Conference room," Chris said. "Come on, I'll show you." She followed him to the conference room although he needn't have taken here. Elizabeth, growing up on ships as she had, could generally find her way around them intuitively. After a day on Darcy's, she more or less knew the lay of the land.

The conference room was not empty when they arrived. Darcy was sitting at the far end of the conference table over a stack of papers and files. His elbows were on the table on either side of this pile, and he was propping up his head with his hands. Also, Elizabeth noted, it was the first time she had seem him without a suit coat and tie—the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and his top two buttons were undone. And she thought, what a shame that _his _personality got stuffed inside _that _body. Then she was weirded out that she was attracted to Will Darcy. But objectively, who could blame her?

Chris said, "Elizabeth needs to phone home."

Darcy leaned back in his chair and dropped his hands to the table. "And you've joined the kitchen staff?" he asked, observing the soup in Chris's hands.

"It's a bit of pay downgrade, but I've decided to follow my dreams," Chris deadpanned. He was about to leave but stopped to add, "By the way, Darce. I talked to some of de Bourgh's people this morning and they warned me we might have a surprise waiting on Bisbee."

"A lynch mob?" Darcy suggested.

Elizabeth, who had become a silent and forgotten observer of the conversation, was fascinated. The Darcy she saw interacting with Chris was different from the Darcy she'd seen before. Was it possible he did have a likeable personality under wraps? If so, why did he keep it there? At any rate, he could make a joke, which was surprising enough.

Chris was saying, "Collins."

"Damn it," Darcy sighed. "Really? Was that necessary?"

"Three years and we're our own men again," Chris said. Elizabeth could only guess they were referring to when Catherine de Bourgh's presidency would end, and Darcy would presumably be elected to take over. Chris added, grinning, "Until then we can just throw him in the brig or something."

Darcy laughed, and then Chris exited. He left Elizabeth in Darcy in an awkward silence. She said, to break it, "Do you really have a brig?"

"No." He stood up. The jokes had left with Chris and she was immediately aware of being in his way.

"I'm sorry," she said. "This isn't important, and clearly you're busy."

"Oh no, you're fine. Trust me, I've had enough of that." He gestured to the stacks on the table. Then he walked to the wall and began pressing a code into the satellite box there. Elizabeth took the opportunity to take in the room. It was typical enough as far as conference rooms went, except that he far end was a wall of shelves, filled to capacity with novels.

"You have a lot of books," she observed, as she crossed the room towards Darcy and towards the shelves. "Are they all yours?"

"Yes," he said. She began to get annoyed with his monosyllabic replies. Was Darcy only nice when Chris was around? Or did she specifically bring out this cold and distant side?

However, curiosity peeked, she continued to ask question. "Have you read them all?"

"Yeah, most." He shrugged. "I read a lot. You're set to go here."

A satellite screen had emerged beside him, from somewhere behind the wall. She thanked him; he collected his things and left. Elizabeth dialed the station's number into the satellite and waited. While she waited she further examined the books. It was an eclectic collection—some recent, some ancient, some classics and many she'd never heard of. A complete collection of Frank Herbert was among them, naturally. She looked for something old and thick. It was going to be a long trip, with Janie out of commission. She came across _The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling _and pulled it from the self.

She opened it. On the first page was an inscription:

_Made me think of you, although I think we've turned out better. _

There was no name.

Then the satellite screen flickered on and Char appeared. "Hey," she said and turned her attention to him. She closed to book but kept it in hand as she hoisted herself onto the conference table to be directly in front of the screen. She crossed her legs underneath her. "How are things holding up?"

Char shrugged. "It hasn't even been twenty four hours. Sort of dull, though. But you plants look really nice, due to me being all alone this afternoon with no other living thing to talk to."

"Well, same here. Janie's been downed by a cold," Elizabeth said. "And Chris with his giant crush is devoting himself to her welfare. Which leaves me the options of Will Darcy and the horrible sister."

"You know," Char said. "I know he likes her, but she needs to get on that before it blows over."

"She likes him; she's just shy. You know how she is."

"Yeah, but does Bingley?"

Elizabeth shrugged. It was a fair enough point. Then her delayed reaction kicked in and she realized what Char had said about having no one to talk to. She said, "Wait a minute, where's Lydia?"

"Re_lax_," Char said, rolling his eyes. "We were over at the military base this morning. General Wickham said he'd look after her. So see? I left her with a responsible adult."

A responsible adult? Elizabeth wasn't sure why, but there were synapses firing in her brain, and those synapses were saying_, this is not a good idea. _Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Char asked, "Okay, what?"

She pulled her hair back with her hand and held it out of her face. "I'm just not sure about Wickham."

Char sighed. "How am I supposed to keep all of this straight? I thought you liked him. Last I knew it was only Darcy on your bad list."

"Liking is different than wanting him guarding Lydia's virginity," she said.

"First of all," Char said, "there is no way I believe that girl is a virgin. Second of all, is this really mistrust speaking or is it jealously?"

Elizabeth thought about that. Honestly, it was probably a little bit of both. He was one of those charming people, and as a rule charming people you shouldn't trust any farther than you could throw them. And yet, she did like him. Or rather, he intrigued her—with his rakish grin and his secret history with Darcy.

She sighed. All the sudden it was awfully difficult to tell what she really thought about anything.

* * *

Even with so many people on the ship, somehow Will had ended up alone in a room with Caroline. They should not have brought her to Maia. Increasingly she annoyed him. But maybe this was his own failing—he was, after all, under a lot of stress. Also, they were too much with each other. He and Caroline got on better when they saw each other more infrequently.

Maybe it was the fact that he felt like she was trying to corner him. There were rumbles about him and Anne de Bourgh, the president's daughter. And while there was nothing to the rumors on his side (or on Anne's for that matter—it was Catherine de Bourgh who was keen for them to marry, no doubt so that she could stake her claim on a political dynasty), the rumors were making Caroline nervous.

That was the thing, though. There was nothing between him and Caroline either. He had always thought that was perfectly clear. And yet she had sat herself on the arm of his chair as he tried to write an email to Giana, although there were plenty of empty chairs in the room. And she would not leave him alone. It was telling.

They had passed into a moment of silence. Caroline broke it, attempting again to get his attention, by saying, "Well, what are we going to do about Christian?"

"What do you mean?" he asked absently, still not setting the email aside.

Caroline let out a frustrated sigh. "You know what I mean," she said. "This girl Janie. I mean, you've seen them. She doesn't even like him and poor Chris is too sweet and love struck and naïve to know the difference."

"I've never been concerned about Chris's judgment." But as he said it he began to think, and what he thought was that Chris definitely was more into Janie than she was into him, and maybe it was cause for concern. After all, he didn't want to see his friend hurt.

The door opened and Chris himself entered as if on cue, followed by Elizabeth Bennett. Caroline did not move from her position on the arm of his chair, which annoyed him, and Chris came in saying something about how Janie was that Will mostly blocked out. It was Elizabeth he found himself watching. She moved into the room and onto a sofa quietly, but her eyes were bright and looked at everything around her. She always seemed to be like this—eager and interested, taking everything in. She was holding a fat book, her finger keeping her place in it. He wanted to know what the book was. He wanted to switch seats.

Caroline said to her brother, "Will's writing to Gianna."

Chris had already started reading something on his computer. He began to ask, with only half of his attention on the conversation, "Did you ever tell her about—"

"No." Will cut him off, knowing the question was going to be about Wickham. He glanced at Elizabeth, feeling keenly her presence, but she was reading her book and either not interested or pretending not to be interested in the conversation. So he added to Chris, "I didn't see the point."

Chris said, "By the way, just got the message—Collins is a definite. We meet him in Bisbee then take him back to Maia for the remainder out here."

Will gave up and set the email aside. He shook his head. "To think, I was looking forward to a month without Drew Collins."

Caroline let out a loud sigh. He knew why: the work talk bored her. She stood up and walked across the room to the window, stared out towards space with her arms folded. It got the point across. She was mad.

But Elizabeth, on the other hand, had looked up from her book. "Drew Collins? You have to be kidding me."

That was surprising. "You know him?" Will asked.

"No," she said, and now she closed the book entirely, after glancing at the page number she was on. "But he's my cousin or something, about twenty-times removed. Legally I could marry him."

Will was baffled. How was it she was always saying something to which he had no idea how to respond? It struck him that perhaps he would do best just to admit this. So, after a pause, he said, "I have no idea how to respond to that."

She laughed. He had made her laugh, unintentionally or not, and he was extraordinary pleased that for the first time they seemed to be getting on. Elizabeth dryly replied, "You haven't met my mother. She'd marry me off to anyone, even a distant relative when he works for the president. Even Char and Janie get the marriage lecture from her." She paused. "Anyway, what's he like? I take it not exactly a gem?"

"He's Will's babysitter," Chris said, and grinned at him.

"He's not—" Will began to protest. But he stopped, changed course, and agreed: "He is my babysitter." Because there was too much truth in Chris's joke. Catherine de Bourg was keeping a closer and closer eye on Will now that she was in her final term. She had her eye on his term as well.

"That's not to say he wouldn't make a lovely husband," Chris said. And Elizabeth, laughing again, assured them that much to her mother's chagrin she was not looking.

"What about Janie?" Caroline asked pointedly, from her position at the window with her back still to the group. Will winced. He watched Elizabeth's face register a series of emotions. She opened her mouth to reply, but Chris's phone rang and interrupted her.

Chris pulled it out and gave it a look. "Bisbee," he said. "I'll take it, unless you want it." He looked up at Will.

"I'd say flip a coin but by then they'll have hung up."

Chris flipped open the phone. "Christian Bingley," he said into it, and stood and left the room talking.

As her brother departed, Caroline came back across the room. She didn't sit on his chair again, thank God. She sat in her own chair on his other side. And sitting between Elizabeth and Caroline, it struck Will that he might be in the middle of a fraught situation. Both women wanted something from him, and both women he seemed to have a great capability to annoy.

_Fantastic, _he though.

* * *

If Elizabeth was beginning to like Will Darcy—but perhaps she wouldn't go as far as that. If she was beginning to tolerate him, and not openly detest him, it was because she was beginning to see that there was an actually person underneath the immaculate varnish of his public self. She enjoyed listening to him talk to Chris.

Caroline Bingley was another story. There was a lot there, but not much to like. After Chris left, Caroline returned to the circle of conversation but at least refrained from perching possessively on Darcy's chair. (Elizabeth noticed the relieved look on Darcy's face that resulted, and smiled.)

Caroline crossed her legs. She said, "I hear you're getting on famously with General Wickham."

Elizabeth knew enough to know it was a loaded question. Even if she hadn't, Caroline's tone would've given it away. She dodged: "I wasn't happy about the military coming and I'm still not."

"That's not what I said, is it?" Caroline snidely replied.

Elizabeth felt like she was under some kind of interrogation. She looked from Caroline to Darcy (who looked cross), and she decided she wasn't going to answer this. She bounced it back to Darcy, addressing him with her next statement: "I know you don't trust him."

Darcy might have been about to answer, but Caroline beat him to it. "No, he doesn't," she said. "You can't trust anyone. That's how you get places."

"Really? No one?" Elizabeth asked, still addressing her questions to Darcy.

He remained neutral. "Caroline makes me sound like I have some kind of diagnosable paranoia. It's not that I don't trust anyone. It's that I don't trust anyone without reason. I tend to think trust needs to be earned."

"I tend to think it needs to be lost," she replied. And she thought that this was something to be said for Darcy. She might disagree with ninety percent of the things that came out of his mouth, but still he was definitely worth talking to. She was never more engaged than when he was on the opposite of an argument.

He countered: "And what if someone does lose it?"

Caroline had all but disappeared from the room. It was just Elizabeth and Darcy. She thought about his question and then she said, "I think I would tend to lean towards the side of grace."

Darcy didn't immediately reply. He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. Elizabeth knew he was weighing her answer, and probably judging her harshly.

Caroline filled the silence with her voice and an abrupt change of subject. "I don't think Chris is coming back. He's probably run off to Janie."

She was ignored.

"You think I'm naïve," Elizabeth said. It was not a question but a summation of what she knew Darcy thought of her.

He reframed. "I think you've had a fortunate life."

Caroline, with an adequate amount of ceremony, stood up and walked out of the room. Elizabeth laughed involuntarily—not at Caroline but at Darcy. Because it was funny that he was saying this to her. Will Darcy, the boy with the Midas touch. He was telling her _she'd _had a fortunate life.

"And you haven't?" she asked.

Darcy sighed, and a particular weariness entered his eyes. "Oh," he said without humor. "You're one of those." She did not know what he meant but felt herself bristle. He explained: "You think I've been handed everything I've worked for and life's just been cartoon blue birds and choreographed musical numbers."

That stopped her short. Because, yes, that was exactly what she thought of him. He had called her out. Was she being hypocritical? After all, here she was furious when he judged her unfairly. Yet she might be doing the same exact thing.

"Hasn't it?" she asked, but there was no challenge in the question or her tone. She genuinely wanted to believe his story, and she would believe whatever he said.

He said, "No."

She waited, she waited, but there was nothing else. Of course not. Will Darcy didn't trust anyone. The moment passed. She said, "But you can't deny your advantages. I mean, compared to someone like—"

"You?" he interjected, smiling, not offended at all.

She waved him off. "We'll leave me out of it for the moment. But compared to someone who wasn't born with your particularly cheery set of circumstances. Like, I don't know, like George Wickham, he probably—"

She had been speaking off the top of her head and dint' realize what she'd said or that she shouldn't' have said it until Darcy interrupted her, with surprising vehemence.

"Oh yes. I'm very well acquainted with Wickham's disadvantages. I'm sure you've heard I was one of them."

She was startled by his tone. Several times she'd debated with him like this. Never before had he lost his temper or spoken with such bitter sarcasm. Usually he was so controlled. But perhaps this was the guilt talking, guilt as well as anger at having this one sordid detail in his blameless past. It must've been bad, whatever went down with George. She got the impression that whatever had happened could seriously dent Darcy's political career, and so Wickham had been shut up about it.

"And yet you can talk so glibly about him," she said, infuriated now.

Will Darcy stared at her, jaw set, and again rain his hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled. It seemed to be an unconscious gesture, when he was thinking or tense. He appeared to be weighing a decision, and then he made it, and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, looking her directly in the eyes. "Elizabeth," he said, and his voice was deep and serious.

And then Chris burst back into room, Caroline close on his tail. Chris was saying something about how Janie was doing; it didn't register in Elizabeth's brain. Darcy's eyes, however, immediately jerked up towards the entering pair. He looked back at Elizabeth with resignation. "Just read your book," he said quietly. She understood that the conversation was over.

Only when she exhaled did Elizabeth realize that she'd been holding her breath. As for the book, she would've rather thrown it at his head. _Just read your book? _You had to be kidding.

She endured another hour then left for her room. But Darcy followed her out. He caught up with her in the hall, said her name, and she was forced to turn around and face him.

Darcy said, "I think if you were to make up your mind about me now you would be wrong about me."

She was tired, she was annoyed, and she was not in the mood. She fell to sarcasm. "Good thing for you then you have three whole years to win my vote."

He looked almost wounded, and she was almost sorry. "Have a good night, Miss Bennett," he said and walked away.

She felt sad. Earlier she had almost liked him. And earlier, he had called her Elizabeth.

* * *

**A/N: Apologies for the long delay! My goal is to have a chapter up every other week at the most, if not every week. Sadly, I experienced the death of a computer since the last time I posted, which slowed me down. But my friend Sam resurrected my computer for me, and voila! A chapter! Everyone say thank you Sam and REVIEW!**

**A few other side notes: It occurred to me when I was planning this story that the tale Wickham makes up about himself and Darcy is a lot like to book **_**Tom Jones. **_**So yes, that will somewhat come into play.**

**Also, I've been watching **_**The Nanny **_**a lot lately (don't judge) and it occurred to me that Caroline Bingley is totally the CC Babcock of this book. So wish I could fit that reference in there, but it would be a total anomaly.**

**Also post-season baseball is **_**HERE**_**. Go Philadelphia!**


	8. Part I, Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

New Bisbee was mine and that was all, plain and simple. And like most mining planets, it was not run by a local government but by its union. What distinguished New Bisbee from other mining planets was how powerful its union was. Bisbee represented more almost half of the Earth empire's lichecum production—an entire planet of the element most often used to fuel spaceships. Bisbee was vital to the Earth empire's entire economy, and Bisbee knew it. And Will knew it too.

They had landed. He wasn't nervous—he was very seldom nervous—but he was focused. It was only in the back of his brain that he registered the conversation Chris was having with Elizabeth about the suits they had been provided with for their visit.

Chris was explaining: "The atmosphere is toxic if you go outside without one of these on. Not anything that's going to kill you instantly, but you'd be puking out your insides for a few days and eventually die of dehydration without medical treatment. Rough life on Bisbee."

Elizabeth was examining the equipment with the interest of a scientist. She said, thoughtfully, "So if you set aside all the extenuating circumstances and just think practically, it would almost be just as difficult to put soldiers here as on Maia—you wouldn't have the water shortage issues, but everyone would have to have one of these."

Will hadn't been part of the conversation but she brought him into it now: "You did drag me along to bring me round to your side. Admit it."

"Not at all," he said. Honestly, at the moment, it wasn't something he necessarily cared about, bringing her around to the military. He found himself more concerned about bringing her around to himself, troubling as that was.

She smiled—at him or with him, it was hard to say. "It's okay. It's good diplomacy. Anyway, here's that _stillsuit _for you."

Then he realized she was just being friendly and making an effort to set aside their argument from the night before. So he smiled to acknowledge the joke. Honestly, why was it always so hard to read her?

There was not time to ponder this question. The door opened; Drew Collins entered. It was fair to say that Will had not been looking forward to this moment. The more Catherine de Bourgh saddle him with Collins' obsequious presence, the more he longed for the end of her term, when he would finally be out from under her foot. Some days, like today, that time seemed much too far away.

This was the problem with Collins: he was a parasite. He latched on to someone with power and rode their wave. He had hitched himself to Catherine de Bourgh's wagon years ago, but had enough foresight now to perceive that Will was next in line for the thrown. Consequently, while President de Bourgh was using Collins as a babysitter, Collins was doing his best to ingratiate himself with Will. Mainly through threats or flattery. But Will had never been one to be bowled over by flattery. Neither was he intimidated by threats. Both just annoyed him. Hence, Collins annoyed him.

Also Collins was weird with girls. Will felt sorry for what he had a suspicion Elizabeth was about to be in for. On the other hand, maybe it would knock her down a peg or two. Or at least, he himself would regain some footing in her estimation merely by the positive comparison to Collins.

_Why the hell are you thinking this, Will? _he thought to himself, annoyed with his own train of thought. There were too many other things to worry about anyway. He would just have to let things run their course.

Caroline was not joining them on their tour of the Bisbee mines. The tour was a sign of respect before the real meetings would commence, which would take place on the ship. Caroline wasn't joining them for the meetings either, of course; nevertheless, she was hanging around in the room as usual, and when Collins entered muttered under her breath to Will, "Oh great, the creeper."

Will sincerely hoped that only he had heard that. Whatever his personal opinions, he did try to be a professional. And it was hard enough to maintain his professional distance around Elizabeth, as the night before had proven, without Caroline's inappropriate comments coming into play. Fortunately, no one was paying attention to her.

"Are we ready? We have ten minutes," Collins said as he entered the room. "We should run through the itinerary."

It was an attempt by Collins to assert his importance. But he was thwarted by Chris, who genially took over. "Right," Chris said. "I've already gone through it with Elizabeth, but I'll catch you up to speed."

Collins's jaw clenched. "Thank you, I _am _up to speed, Christian," he said tightly. Will swallowed down a smile. Collins regarded Chris as his enemy and rival for position, and it was always entertaining to watch Chris obliviously and competently handle him.

Then Collins turned his attention to Elizabeth. "And who is this magnificent creature?" he asked. "What is someone as hot as you doing all the way out here in space?"

Elizabeth looked weirded out, because, who wouldn't? She was in a government space craft, not a bar. Will felt compelled to intercede. "This is Dr. Elizabeth Bennett," he said, stressing her title, "one of the researchers on Maia. Dr. Bennett will be joining us today."

"Well, if anyone can win these men to our side, it's a beautiful girl," Collins said. Will felt genuinely pained. So when Collins said to him, "Darcy, can I speak with you a moment?" he was more than happy to oblige, if only to relieve the situation of some awkwardness.

He and Collins went in to the next room. Collins immediately attacked. "Why did you bring the girl?"

He did not feel the need to explain his actions to Collins, and reverted to sarcasm. "I brought two of them actually."

Collins remained on his high horse. "President de Bourg won't care how many you brought. They're all anti-military troublemakers and we're here to stop a strike, not play footsies. It's a good thing she sent me."

But now Will was beginning to get annoyed. "First of all, anti-military is a hasty generalization. And second of all, Dr. Bennett has a unique perspective and deserves to be heard."

Seeing he was getting nowhere with the threats, Collins quickly switched to his alternate personality, that of flattery. "Well of course, you absolutely know best," he said, without irony. But also without any true sincerity.

"You needn't have come," Will said, and left the room. Returning, to where the others were, he found Caroline had gone. Chris and Elizabeth had already donned there suits. There wasn't much time, yet he made a point, before the day began, to find a moment to get Elizabeth off to the side and apologize for Collins.

She seemed in a good humor, despite that. "I was warned," she said, a laugh in her eyes. Then she added more seriously, "You have your hands full, don't you?"

"It's just a day's work," he said, then realized he sounded like a self-important ass.

"Well, I promise to be on my best behavior," she said. "So there's one loose cannon you can cross off your list."

It was hard to know how to reply to that.

From there on out, the day took an unexpected tone. He found himself repeatedly explaining or defending Elizabeth's presence to the people around him. He had anticipated a little of that, but not as much as he got. The union leaders, knowing that she did not want the military on Maia, regarded her as a foe. Whether she sensed their hostility or whether she was simply sticking to her promise of good behavior, she did the best she could with the situation. On the tour she was quiet but attentive and interested, while simultaneously trying to ward off unwanted attention from Collins. Will was impressed.

And when everyone finally sat down for talks, and it was finally Elizabeth's turn to speak, she did so with more diplomacy than Will had seen from her yet. She wasn't combative at all, actually quite the opposite. She admitted that after visiting Bisbee she saw as many inherent problems with putting a military there as on Maia, if not more.

"My only concern," she said, "is that placing the military on Maia will bring the war closer to all of us, not further away."

Still, someone said something snide.

And Will heard himself coming to her defense once again: "Dr. Bennett has a legitimate concern. Now we're obviously hoping it won't, but there is a chance the war will follow the military settlement to Maia. I think we need to be prepared and open to looking for alternate solutions, should that day come."

Elizabeth looked at him gratefully across the table.

* * *

When the meetings were finally over—the day was over—Elizabeth was glad. She filed out to the hallway with everyone else and watched Will Darcy play the great diplomat and send them all off. When they were gone, she watched as his public face vanished. He let out a deep sigh. He looked tired.

"Thank you," she said.

He turned around, and seemed surprised that she was still in the room. "For what?" he asked. He was holding a stack of notes in his left hand, but let the hand fall to his side. Elizabeth recognized in the gesture that he was committing to conversation with her, on top of what he had done already.

"For being incredibly supportive," she said. "Despite…. everything."

"I wouldn't have brought you here to embarrass you," he said. She felt chastised. She felt like she needed to apologize, although she wasn't sure for what. But she remembered what he had said two nights before: _if you were to make up your mind about me now, you would be wrong about me. _

He was saying, "Besides, you might be right. Maybe the military on Maia will bring the war to the Outer Colonies. The way things are going, something will. But New Bisbee knows it's a target, so from that perspective you can't really blame them from wanting protection." He sighed, and did that thing—the hand through his hair. This time it made her smile. He added in a more frustrated tone, "Honestly, I've been doing what I can to keep things under control out here, but there's only so much I can do—"

There he stopped, but there was more to the sentence and Elizabeth knew what it was. "Until you're president," she finished.

He looked at her for a minute. Then he smiled. But he didn't say it himself. He said, with mock formality, "Of course, I completely support the current administration, for which I work."

She could barely suppress her own smile. "Of course."

Then he took her arm, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to do so, as he led her out of the hallway where they were still standing. She had not forgotten about Wickham, but she had made a decision: it was unfair to judge Will Darcy on suspicions and innuendos. He had been kind to her today—more than kind. She wanted to hear about him from himself.

So she asked, "Why do you want to be president?"

He laughed. He had let go of her arm, but she was still following him, regardless of where they were going. He said, "I thought I had at least one more year before I had to start answering that question."

"No offense, but I'm not really interested in your campaign speech."

"Trust me," he said. "If there's one thing I've learned about you it's to spare you the bullshit."

(It occurred to Elizabeth that Darcy was talking to her without reserve, like she'd only seen him talk to Chris. Somehow she had broken through. She was in the inner circle, and this was the real Will Darcy walking beside her.)

He had paused a moment to think and now he said, "I suppose the same thing you want. And most people, really. To do some good."

She didn't doubt the sincerity of his answer, and yet it seemed too simple. She said, "That's a pretty grandiose way to do some good."

He had led her to the conference room. They entered; he headed to the coffee pot on a table near the door, and began pouring a cup. "Well, I suppose there's some underlying psychology—wanting to make my own name instead of just inheriting my father's, etcetera. I try not to overanalyze it, and I'm sure you've a furtive enough imagination to fill in the gaps."

He turned back around to face her, and offered her the coffee. She took it. He said, "Besides, signing up for seven years on a deserted planet is a pretty grandiose way of doing some good too, isn't it?"

She laughed. "Good call," she said, for he was absolutely right. "You keep doing that."

"What?" he asked, pouring his own coffee now.

"Calling me out."

"Sorry," he said, turning back around to face her. And you know, she sort of liked him. She didn't dislike him, at least.

"Don't be," she said. "Keeps me on my toes." She smiled at him. He smiled at her. It was kind of a moment.

Then Chris came in, and to be honest, that was fine. She and Darcy were at a nice, peaceful place, and it was probably best to leave it at that before something set one of them off. Chris said to Darcy as he entered, "I think that went well, even with Collins."

"I'll get out of your way," Elizabeth interjected.

"You're fine," Darcy said, but just the same she made her polite excuses and left. She was exhausted. So she wandered up the Janie's room with the cup of coffee from Darcy. Janie was feeling better, but had still decided to sit the day out. Chris, with his extreme concern for her health, had probably talked her into it. Elizabeth was glad for the chance to debrief before Chris and Darcy were done talking and Chris came to reclaim Janie.

She entered the room, and Janie, who was sitting up in bed with a book, looked up to ask her, "So how did it go?" She closed the book and set it in her lap.

Elizabeth crossed the room, set the coffee on the bedside table, and fell on her stomach onto the bed beside Janie. "Exhausting," she said. Her face was full of pillow. The word came out muffled.

Janie said, "You're going to get my sick."

"I'll chance it," Elizabeth said, and continued to lie there, but she flipped over to her side so she could talk properly, propping herself up with her elbow. "My distant relative Drew Collins is creepy and awful. The union people hated me." She paused. She sorted through her impressions of the day. Then she said aloud, trying the viewpoint on for size, "Darcy was quite _gallant_, though."

Janie raised her eyebrows. "Darcy who we formerly loathed and despised? This is a change of tune."

"He stood up for me," Elizabeth said. "I don't know. I can't figure him." She wanted to change the subject. "How's our book?" she asked Janie, gesturing to the novel she had set down. Elizabeth was a few hundred pages into _The History of Tom Jones _and had lent it to Janie for the day.

But Janie had never been much of a reader, when it came to things other than scientific manuals. She wrinkled her nose. "I got through about half a page."

Elizabeth laughed. "Alright, give it back," she said. Janie handed it to her without protest, while Elizabeth added, "Maybe I should call Char and Lydia."

"Don't be such a mom."

"Fine. Then I'm going to get out of here before your boyfriend shows up."

Janie adopted an innocent expression. "What boyfriend?" she asked.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. It took a great amount of effort, but she managed to make herself get off the bed. She said, "Speaking of that whole act, Char thinks you should stop being coy, but I'll let you take that one up with him."

"I'm not coy," Janie insisted.

"I know," Elizabeth said. And honestly, she did know that was true. "I told him that. But you know Char. He just wants grandchildren."

Janie laughed, and Elizabeth left the room and went straight to her own. She didn't want to run into anyone—and, okay, anyone meant Will Darcy. She was still thinking about the moment they'd had earlier. What had that been? Or had she imagined it? By the time she finished brushing her teeth, washing her face, and changing into sweatpants and a tank top, she had convinced herself that she had, yes, only imagined it. She and Will Darcy didn't have moments. Possibly he was a decent person, and possibly they could get along now professionally. But thinking anything beyond that was thinking crazy.

She got into bed and opened her book.

The history of Tom Jones was as follows: Tom Jones was an abandoned child, left on the doorstep of this awesome rich guy called Allworthy. Tom Jones grew up to be a nice—well, a little bit rakish, but his heart was golden—guy, and Allworthy loved him like a son, but unfortunately Allworthy's evil nephew got jealous and told all sorts of lies to sabotage Tom's life in whatever way possible. Also there was some stuff about a girl. So the kids who should've been like brothers became enemies, and Tom got thrown out of the house and had to go make his way in the world, completely alone.

That was as far as she'd gotten. It was a pretty good book. But for some reason she kept turning back to the inscription in the front cover: _Made me think of you, although I think we've turned out better. _

She had a funny suspicion about who had written that to Darcy.

* * *

**A/N: Well guys, that's it for my Phillies for the year. Yet somehow I managed to pull myself out of my depression and finish this chapter for you. For you! (Especially for geril who sent me a PM.) So send me back some reviews, because reviews = love, and I could use some love after having the Phillies crush my spirit.**

**Also, I decided as I was writing this chapter that I wanted Elizabeth to be Dr. I'll go back and change that in the other chapters at some point. But yeah, sorry if that was confusing.  
**


	9. Part I, Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

It was good to get back to Maia. Elizabeth felt like life had been nothing but disruptions since Will Darcy and everyone with him had entered the picture, and all she wanted was to get back to work. She wanted to get back to a routine. But the problem she found when she returned back to her own planet was that the disruptions had not gone anywhere. They were there, they were many, and some were there to stay.

First of all, there was Chris. Who knew how Will Darcy was getting along, because his chief of staff certainly found enough time to hang around the station with Janie. It was cute. And Elizabeth was glad they liked each other (although she did notice Janie didn't get any more demonstrative even after another lecture from Char). It was just when he was around, Elizabeth would start to feel like the third wheel in her own home.

Also, there was Drew Collins.

The first few days after they returned from Maia, he would show up at way-too-frequent intervals to do nothing but apparently pursue her with weird pick-up lines and generally creep her out. And then somehow, somehow, her mother found out he was there, which led to uncomfortable satellite calls with Rose Bennett trying to bully or cry Elizabeth into accepting one of Collins's disturbing propositions.

"First Will Darcy, now your own relation. I don't know why you're trying to hurt me!" Rose said, nearing hysterics, at the end of one of these conversations.

"Mom—" Elizabeth sighed. Once again, she was prepared to try once again to talk her mother down from a cliff.

But Rose's image huffily left the screen in front of Elizabeth, although she was sure that her mother was still listening from right outside of video range. Her father was still there.

"Dad, if you met him…..Even Lydia would vouch for me about this."

"I know, Lizzy. Chin up." He was always on her side. And he was the only person she would tolerate calling her Lizzy.

After the conversation, she went down to the lab and found not Janie and Chris, but Janie and Char. Her family. Thank God.

"Guys," she said, pulling a stool over to where they were working. She sat down. "How am I going to get Collins to leave me alone? How am I going to get my mom to leave me alone about Collins?"

Janie said, "You know, he was on me for about a day, but I told him I had a boyfriend."

There was a pause. "_Do _you?" Elizabeth asked.

Janie was silent on the subject. "Maybe you should tell him you have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Either way, he seems to respect those boundaries."

Char said nothing. It was a pattern Elizabeth had noticed. Upon first meeting Collins he had laughed with the rest about his behavior. But after a few days he had changed. Any mention of Collins and he wouldn't say a word. Elizabeth didn't know what to attribute it to.

She said to Janie, "I'm surprised he has any boundaries."

And then Char said, "You know he's just compensating."

Elizabeth was surprised Char had spoken. "What does that mean?" she asked him.

"You need an explanation of the word compensating?"

"No," she said. "But—"

He interrupted. "I'm going to go take care of your plants," he said, and made an abrupt exit. Elizabeth watched him go, then turned to Janie who was still staring with a miffed expression towards the door Char had exited through.

"Do you have any idea what he's on about?" Elizabeth asked. And Janie just shook her head. But after that conversation Collins visits stopped. Elizabeth saw nothing of him. But she also saw a lot less of Char, who began mysteriously disappearing for hours. It worried Elizabeth. Char wasn't usually the secretive type.

As for Lydia, Elizabeth did her best, but there came a point where she just had to tell herself she wasn't a parent. Lydia was responsible for herself, and it was impossible to keep tabs on her twenty-four hours a day.

What she knew was that Lydia had a least three boys from within Wickham's ranks hopelessly in love with her. At night, when they were sharing a bed, Lydia would tell her all about her conquests, these poor hearts she was going to break. Elizabeth knew she was going to break them because Lydia didn't seem interested in anything other than keeping everyone interested at once.

But when Elizabeth tried to bring up the foul play, Lydia would invariable make the same excuses. "Oh my gosh," she would say. "Everybody knows I'm not serious. You only think that because you're old and old people get so serious about things. Everybody knows were just having fun."

So what could Elizabeth do but leave it alone?

The other distraction was of course George Wickham himself.

He dropped by the day they got back from Maia. She was in her garden and he announced his presence by asking, "What is it with you and plants?"

Elizabeth hadn't been sure how she would feel when she saw Wickham again. The Darcy-Wickham mystery seemed more complicated after New Bisbee, now that she was pretty sure she couldn't just discredit Darcy as a completely despicable human being. The question of what had happened and who had been at fault loomed in the back of her mind—both had done some finger pointing; neither had told her anything to back up their insinuations.

But she found she was glad to see Wickham again. Whatever else he was, he was easy to be around. Which was the exact opposite of Darcy, even when they weren't fighting about something. With Darcy things always seemed complicated. With Wickham things just were light.

"Listen, stick around on my planet long enough and you'll get weird about plants too," she said.

He laughed. "How was your Bisbee adventure? Sorry I never called."

"Oh, we're dating now?" she deadpanned.

He held up his hands in protest. "Woa there. I just meant to make sure and William hadn't torn each other to shreds. But it seemed weird calling his ship. I mean, what if he answered?"

The conversation was all jokes at the moment, and Elizabeth wanted to keep it that way. She said, "How chivalrous of you to think to do so and then not do it."

"I'm a pretty chivalrous guy."

"Bisbee was actually alright," She said, busing herself so that she did not have to look directly at him.

"Wait," he said. "You haven't been indoctrinated into the cult of William Darcy have you?" He sighed exaggeratedly. "Elizabeth, Elizabeth. I had such high hopes for you. You were holding out! You saw through the façade."

She thought about saying, you're one to talk about facades. For the point of George Wickham's entire personality seemed to be to bedazzle people out of noticing anything past his charm. Who knew what was underneath that charm. Elizabeth certainly didn't. But she decided to leave that alone for now. Besides, she didn't want him thinking she'd turned into some Will Darcy fangirl.

So she said, "I'm just haven't made up my mind either way. I'm trying to be open-minded."

"Fair enough," he said. "I mean, I guess my own opinion is clouded by what happened. He could've changed since then. As much as anyone changes."

She wasn't fooled at all by Wickham's coyness. He wanted her to ask what had happened. He wanted to tell her. And she wasn't sure she wanted to hear it from him, so she didn't ask. The conversation passed on to other things. George was good at asking her question listening to her answers. He made her feel interesting.

After that, she saw quite a bit of him. It was partly because she liked feeling interesting, but mostly because she was lonely. Janie had Chris. Lydia had her multiple love interests. Char was disappearing all the time. Suddenly, Elizabeth was too much alone. George was someone to be with. And the more time she spent with him, the more she liked him—or at least liked flirting with him. Which wasn't the same as liking him, but it was close. She felt, given enough time, she would eventually get to the real him under the charm, and hopefully she would like that person.

This was not to say that Will Darcy wasn't on her mind. But he was pushed to a corner where she rarely noticed him. When he did manage to emerge to the forefront, she had an almost unstoppable urge to barge into his spaceship and ask him more questions about why he wanted to be president, and what had happened to him that hadn't been blue birds and musical numbers, and who he was, and what he was looking for.

Of course, she resisted these urges.

And she only saw him once that whole week.

She ran into him in the halls of the military ship. He was going in as she was leaving, after a visit with Wickham. And she felt embarrassed, and strangely guilty, as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn't have done.

"Hello," she said. Inwardly she cringed. Why did she sound so awkward and stupid?

Darcy was, as always, composed. He nodded to acknowledge her. "Dr. Bennett."

She felt like she had to explain herself or make up some excuse for being there. But what excuse could she make? So she tried to make a joke. "Just bringing a casserole over to the new neighbors."

He smiled. "That's very neighborly of you."

There was a silence, debatably awkward.

"You're leaving soon," she said.

He nodded an affirmative. "Two days."

And she thought, he's glad to be going. And she thought, I'll never see him again. And she thought, why do I care about that? But she did care. And that wasn't something she wanted him to know. So she said, "I'm sure that's a relief for everyone," and laughed.

A look of frustration crossed his face, but it passed. Or maybe she had imagined it. "Right," he said. "Sorry, but I'm on my way to a meeting…."

He was trying to be polite. Taking the hint, she jumped in. "Of course. I won't keep you."

But watching him walk away, she felt sad.

She went straight from there back to the station and had a fight with Char.

* * *

Will had several concerns upon arriving back on Maia after the New Bisbee trip.

First of all, he didn't know if he'd been brainwashed by Elizabeth Bennett or not, but he was suddenly as convinced as she that the war following these troops to the Outer Colonies was not just a possibility but an inevitability. But there was nothing really to do about it now. He discussed his concerns with the President, but she was dismissive. So he had to comfort himself with the fact that it hadn't been his call so it wasn't something he'd be answerable to when things went south.

Still, it was annoying, because this was just one more thing he was going to have clean up in three years time.

Another concern was Chris. He spent way too much time popping off to that space station, and of course he only went there to following Janie around like some love-struck teenager. Will had seen enough of that. He had observed on the way back from New Bisbee, enough to understand that Chris was way more into the girl than she was into him. It wasn't going to end well. Will didn't know what Janie's Bloom game was. Maybe she just liked the attention, who knew. All he knew—or felt rather, in his gut—was that it was all going to end very badly.

He didn't want to see his friend get burned. But what could he do? Chris was adult, and had the right to make his own decisions. Even if they were stupid ones.

But what Will was most concerned about was himself. Because, okay, he _had _been brainwashed by Elizabeth Bennett. There was no denying it. He thought about her too much. He'd even gone as far as to find out how much longer she was assigned on Maia (a year and a half). Yes, it was that bad.

He kept away. It wasn't hard because he was busy and because there was no real reason for him to wander over to the space station anyway. But he would've kept away anyway. How hypocritical would he be if he were to try to pursue Elizabeth, who could barely stand him? There was no chance in hell there, which was a lot more dire than the Chris-Janie situation.

Besides that, it was ridiculous even to think about it. He was leaving in less than a week, and what then? Their lives were impossibly separate.

The only problem with holing himself up in the spaceship (when he wasn't meeting with the military) was that Caroline seemed to take it as encouragement. But then, it was possible Caroline would find a way to take anything as encouragement. The thing was with Caroline, he would've had more sympathy on her except he was sure it wasn't really him she liked. She liked the idea of him, William Darcy. Maybe she just liked the idea of being first lady. Still, she was Chris's sister and he tried to deal with her kindly.

As for George, they had found a way to interact as strangers. It was a mutual silent agreement, and it worked fine. Will could sit in a room with him without think, _oh, that's George _and without wanting to ask him a lifetime's worth of questions about what had happened to him and why he had done what he done.

Will just didn't think about it. He couldn't. In that respect, the Elizabeth Bennett thing was almost a welcome distraction.

He only saw her once that week.

He was going into a meeting at the military ship. He met her in the halls.

"Hello," she said.

He didn't know what to call her anymore. It crossed his mind that she had probably been with George. And what right did Darcy have to expect anything different from her, after avoiding her all week? He had never told her the truth. And who knew. Maybe by now George had told her his own fictional version of events.

"Dr. Bennett," he said, and hated how formal it sounded.

But she seemed undaunted. She said carelessly, "Just bringing a casserole over to the new neighbors."

He smiled in spite of the fact that she had just basically confirmed his suspicions—she was spending her free time with George now. He said, "That's very neighborly of you."

A silence filled the space between them. He had never felt so far away from anyone in his life.

It was Elizabeth who broke the silence. "You're leaving soon," she said.

He nodded. "Two days." It was too soon.

But it wasn't too soon for Elizabeth. She wanted him gone and said as much, although she said it good-naturedly enough, turning it into a joke. Laughing, she said, "I'm sure that's a relief for everyone." And though she made it a universal, he knew what she meant. It was a relief for her.

"Right," he said, suddenly cross. But he did his best to hide it. Still, he wanted to get away from her, and began making his excuse. "Sorry, but I'm on my way to a meeting…."

She was seemed happy enough to get out of the conversation. She said, "Of course. I won't keep you."

And that was it. But the run-in with Elizabeth threw him off. The meeting with George afterwards was different. It went smoothly. They talked in their distant, unrelated way. But Will's brain was un-compartmentalized and he kept thinking, _This is George. This might be the last time I ever see him. If I don't ask him now, I will never know why all of these things happened and we will be strangers forever._

Strangers forever. George who had been his brother. Who had been his best friend.

But of course he didn't ask anything. He left the military ship feeling even more cross, and went back to his own ship, and straight off had an argument with Chris.

* * *

**A/N: Apologies for the delay and what I'm sure is a typo-ridden chapter. Grad school is officially destroying my life right now. Please review. **

**Next chapter will involve a kiss, but I will leave you in suspense as to the two people involved in this kiss!**


	10. Part I, Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Upon his return from the meeting with George, Will found a Chris who was in full-on schedule mode. Usually he appreciated Chris's organization and efficiency, but right then Will's mind was elsewhere. Yes, the following day would be a busy one, but Will already knew the itinerary. He didn't need to hear it again. He wasn't listening.

And so it took him a moment to realize that Chris had paused in his soliloquy. When he finally heard the silence, he looked over at his friend.

Chris said, "We don't need to do this. You're not even registering. Call it a night."

There was no reason for Will to be annoyed, but all of the sudden he was. "Do you have somewhere else to be?" he asked.

Chris shrugged, not catching the tone of the question. "Probably go over and see Janie."

Chris was exasperating, honestly. This was getting ridiculous. Will had to say something. Didn't he? As a friend?

He said, "Chris, you can't be serious."

"What do you mean?" Chris asked in a measured tone. He was beginning to catch on the drift of the conversation and sat down in a nearby chair. He waited for Will's reply.

But wasn't it obvious what he meant? Will sat down as well, searching his mind for a good away to put things. He couldn't find one. But he forged ahead, as carefully as he could. "I just don't think you're at the same place with this—you and Janie."

Chris was silent for a moment. Then he said, "You don't think she likes me."

Frustrated, Will ran both hands through his hair. "I don't know. I just think, she's hard to get to know, isn't she? I mean, we've known her for a couple of weeks. What can we possibly know about her intentions and—"

Chris interrupted. "Darce, you really need to stop thinking that everyone in the world is waiting to stab you in the back. Really. For your own good."

True, it was true, but he waved it aside. "Tabling that argument, what exactly do you expect this to look like? You're never going to see her. Maia is as remote as remote gets."

"They're off this planet in a year and a half," Chris said quietly. He had given the question some thought already. That wasn't necessarily a good sign.

"And wouldn't it be wiser to wait and see where you are then? A year and a half is a long time."

It was. It was a damned long time.

Chris didn't reply. He stood up and made to leave. Will sighed. "You're pissed," he said.

"No," Chris said. It was hard to tell from his tone whether this was true or not. "You've just made your point. And you know the itinerary. So I'm leaving." And he went.

And Will was alone.

* * *

It was a bit of a walk from the military base to the station. Most days, Elizabeth enjoyed the exercise. Today her head felt full and her thoughts were heavy. She quickened her pace. She wanted to get back to the distraction of work.

As she neared the station, she saw a figure leaving it. It took here a moment to realize who it was. Drew Collins. Clandestinely walking out of the station. Suddenly, everything about Char's behavior made sense—his secretiveness, the comments about compensating. Elizabeth stopped walking and waited till the departing figure was out of sight. Then she continued on her pathway, pace slow again.

It couldn't be true. Dear God, it could not be true.

When she entered the station, Char was cooking dinner. He didn't cook often—none of them did—and Elizabeth attributed the impulse to a guilty conscience. He glanced over as she walked in and said conversationally, "Hey. That was a quick visit."

But everything seemed riddled with meaning. Had Elizabeth been the passive aggressive type, she might have played along or tried to set a trap for him. But she wasn't. She would rather confront him outright than play games to get him to admit the truth.

So she simply said, "Char. Please tell me I'm misinterpreting what I just saw and you are not sneaking around with Collins."

For a moment he had paused in his cooking efforts. But now he continued. He didn't look at her. "Do you want me to tell you that, or do you want me to tell you the truth?"

It was difficult to believe this was actually happening. Char, her best friend, an amazing and smart and funny person, was secretly seeing the most detestable of Will Darcy peons. And what was this anyway? A hook up? A _relationship_?

"You cannot be serious," she said. "Char, what happened to standards?"

"Okay," he said, putting down the spoon with which he had been stirring a pot and turning to face her. She had heard the annoyance in his voice. She now saw it on his face. He continued. "It's easy enough for you to talk about standards, Elizabeth, but not all of us have boyfriends falling out of our ears."

"Excuse me?" she said, beginning to be offended herself.

"Oh come on," he said. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about."

"I do not have boyfriends falling out of my ears."

He looked at her, examining her silently for almost a full minute. Then he asked with deliberate clearness, "Do you deny George Wickham?"

She thought it over. "No," she admitted. "But that's just one—"

Char interrupted. "Do you deny Will Darcy?"

She froze.

"What?" she finally coughed out. It was all she could manage. Char didn't reply. He waited. She had told Char her Darcy stories from the Bisbee trip, and tough he had been an active listener he had never made any insinuation about Darcy like this. Now it just seemed like a defense mechanism. Because it couldn't be anything else.

"Yes," she said firmly. "I absolutely deny Will Darcy. What the hell, Char?"

He waved dismissively, as if this was neither here nor there. "The point is, I know judging is kind of your thing—and if you're wondering why I didn't tell you in the first place, there you go. But I don't think you're in a position to judge me. So just lay off."

She felt attacked and struck back. "Do you _like _him?"

Char looked at her impassively. "I'm not going to answer that question. It's a double-edged sword. You'll damn me if I do, and you'll damn me if I don't."

She was silent. He added, "Look, I'm just saying. I've got my shit and you've got your shit and maybe you should get your own shit together instead of getting all up in mine. Because I'm dealing with mine."

He turned his back on her and continued cooking. She turned around and walked back out the station. Outside it was beginning to get dark. Elizabeth's mind was on replay. She had never fought with Char before, not like that. She couldn't get the things he had said out of her brain.

_Judging is kind of your thing._

_Get your own shit together._

_Do you deny Will Darcy?_

She took a long walk. It didn't help. And so she set of again towards the military ship. She needed to get centered. She was going to the Earth Room.

* * *

Will couldn't explain how he had ended up wandering the halls of the military ship, but here he was.

Or maybe he could explain.

Maybe he wanted to run into George and have this out. Because the thing with George was affecting everything else. It was making him irritable with Chris and suspicious of Janie. It was probably the reason Elizabeth was so set against him.

But however many halls he wandered, he didn't run into George. Will was relieved, and disappointed at the same time. And he kept wandering, eventually finding his way to the Earth room. Someone was there, but it wasn't George. It was Elizabeth Bennett. She was sitting on a bench beneath a spectacularly large tree.

And Will saw the crossroad in front of him. He could go talk to her. Or he could leave.

* * *

Elizabeth didn't know how long she had been sitting under the tree when she saw someone walking towards her. She thought it was Wickham, and was frustrated because she didn't want to talk to him just then. But then she realized it wasn't Wickham at all.

Will Darcy was the most dressed down she'd ever seen him. That is to say, he was not wearing a suit coat or tie, his sleeves were rolled up, his top button was undone, and his hands were in his pockets. He looked good this way, she thought. And she watched him, silently, until he was before her.

"Hi," she said.

"Can I sit?" he asked, and she nodded. He sat down beside her, and they were quiet—him taking in the Earth Room, her taking in him. She hadn't expected to see Will Darcy again.

Finally he spoke. "It's pretty incredible. I wish they'd build one of these on my ships."

"I love these rooms," she agreed. "Sometimes an Earth Room is the only place I feel at home."

He said, "You grew up with them."

She nodded and smiled. "You did your homework on me, didn't you?"

Darcy laughed. She liked the sound of it. "Well," he said, "Chris did anyway. He does my homework."

"Must be nice." She was joking, but Darcy had gone silent again. Why had he come to talk to her if he wasn't going to say anything? What was he doing here anyway?

When at last he spoke, he had moved beyond the small talk. He said, "You and I got off on the wrong track. I mean, I expected it in a way once George got here, but you didn't like me even before then."

Elizabeth didn't know what point he was making or what question he was asking or what she was meant to say. She replied, without sarcasm, "I wouldn't take it personally. I mean that. I was just told judging is my thing."

He sighed and averted his gaze. "I was just told I need to stop thinking everyone's waiting to stab you in the back."

She hesitated. But he seemed to be asking. "I guess that was it," she said. He looked at her and his face was a question mark. She explained, "Why I didn't like you. You sort of come off… closed off. You're hard to get to know."

He looked as though she had slapped him in the face. Which she didn't understand. She thought she had been putting it nicely.

Then he said, "I'll tell you anything."

She laughed—a short laugh of surprise. She thought he was joking.

But he wasn't. "I'm serious. Ask anything. Except, you know, government secrets."

The question came out of Elizabeth's mouth before she could stop it: "Who's George Wickham?"

"My brother."

He said it helplessly. His voice didn't crack exactly, but there was a roughness to it, like the words had been pulled from him from a place where he had locked them away and they'd hurt him on their way out. She knew Will Darcy didn't have a brother. But she also knew he was telling her the truth. Somehow, it was the truth. She could only see his profile, but he looked so sad. He had gone so quiet. She was struggling against the urge to do something completely inappropriate—to take his hand or gently push the hair off of his forehead. She wanted to make him feel better. She didn't know what to do.

But then he laughed, and shook it off. "Elizabeth Bennett," he said, "you are a bloody piece of work, getting that out of me."

"Sorry," she apologized. She meant it sincerely. She felt like she might have crossed a line into a place Will Darcy didn't like people visiting. "But you did say I could ask you anything."

He didn't seem to be cross with her. He was meeting her eyes again, and actually teasing her a bit. "Well, you certainly tested the extreme limits of that. Did I pass?"

He didn't mean anything by those words. But a realization hit her.

* * *

Will had meant to move the conversation back towards something lighter. Truth games were risky, although maybe he should've expected that she would ask about George. It was George on her mind, even now as she was sitting with him. And he had hated the sound of the catch in his voice as he had admitted, "He's my brother."

So he'd said afterwards, joking, "Well, you certainly tested the extreme limits of that. Did I pass?"

And because he'd meant it as a transition back towards small talk, he was surprised by the expression on Elizabeth's face—she looked mortified. He was even more surprised by what she said next: "Oh God. I am always doing that, aren't I? Like you said. I'm always making people audition for me. I just did it to you."

Okay, he remembered saying that to her at one time or another. And it was sort of true. But he hadn't meant his comment to come off as an attack or a teaching moment.

"It's okay," he said, with a shrug and a smile. "It's good practice."

And he wondered why he was trying so hard to bring the conversation back to surface level, when really he wanted to know everything about her, especially the things that were meaningful. Perhaps it was because he knew that was one sided. She wanted to talk about George. She didn't want to know everything about him.

She said, "Right. For your presidential campaign." Her voice was listless, almost disappointed. She was staring ahead of her with a blank expression. He was losing her. He wanted to bring her back. If confessions about George were what it was going to take—

But first he tried a different kind of confession: "I'm not as glad to be leaving as I thought I would be."

He paused. She had turned to look at him again, and her eyes were expectant and probing. He looked at those eyes.

"I'm not glad at all," he said.

She understood. He knew she understood.

He wondered if she would let him kiss her.

And she did.

* * *

Char was still awake when Elizabeth returned to the station, although it was late. Very very late. He was sitting on the couch, watching grainy sitcoms on the TV feed from Bisbee, the volume turned very low.

"Hey," he said, as she walked in. "Sorry. I got pretty mean earlier. I didn't mean to get so mean. I was just pissed, so you know, half of what I said was probably largely exaggerated."

She sat down beside him on the couch. She wasn't mad anymore about anything he had said. Enough of it had been true. And yeah, the Collins thing was still a little creepy, but she was even willing to let that one slide. After all, she misjudged people. She did it all the time. She felt magnanimous and optimistic at the moment. She was willing to give anyone the benefit of the doubt.

So she just asked, "Are there any left-overs?"

And she and Char both knew that they were fine.

"A little," Char said. "Sorry, but your sister eats like a high school football team."

She didn't get up to look for the food, because she wasn't really hungry. She had just been asking as a sign of peace. She and Char fell into silence, sitting side by side listening to the sitcom's laugh track.

"Will Darcy is full of secrets," Elizabeth said.

Char looked at her sideways, but he didn't comment or ask. That was probably for the best. She was full of secrets too. Yes, she had kissed Will Darcy—that was one secret.

But the bigger secret was that she had wanted Will Darcy to kiss her.

She had wanted it so, so much.

_**

* * *

**_

A/N: P_**leeeeeeeeeeeease **_**review! How can I bribe you people? Review = love and I need some love.**

****** Anyways this was the eye before the storm. Next chapter it all goes to hell and then we are on to Part II. Whoohoo!**


	11. Part I, Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

It was the day Elizabeth had been looking forward to since Will Darcy had arrived—the last day he would be on her planet. Tomorrow he was leaving, his entourage with him, and life could resume a routine. Albeit a routine complicated by a military occupation, Lydia, and the suspect charms of General George Wickham.

She should have been ecstatic, or at the very least very relieved.

She wasn't. Something had shifted. It had happened in the Earth Room, or maybe it had been happening long before that. But when Will Darcy had said to her last night, "He's my brother," although she didn't completely understand the confession, she knew that it was a confession. She knew it was something he didn't tell everyone. He had let her inside his circle of trust. And then he had kissed her.

And shit. She was starting to have feelings for Will Darcy.

_Will Darcy. _The man who had invaded her planet with the military. The man you couldn't turn on a television without hearing about. The man who would be king. The Messiah. The golden boy.

He had kissed her. He was leaving.

Chris and Drew Collins were of course leaving with the government ship, and so it did not surprise Elizabeth at all when both Janie and Char disappeared early on that morning. Lydia—who, despite her multiple military boyfriends, had apparently found time for shenanigans with a low-level Darcy staffer—soon followed. And Elizabeth was left alone in the station. She did chores. She cleaned. She thought about what to do.

Of course, she knew what she should do. She should just let this one go. Let Darcy go back to Earth and his run for the presidency and his suitable match with the president's daughter, and resume her life without him.

At midday, the buzzer went off to let her know someone was at the space station door. She froze at the sink, where she was cleaning the dishes that remained from Char's cooking escapade the night before. She thought, it's him.

It was not him. It was Wickham. He followed her in without her issuing a direct invitation while saying, "One of the boys said they saw you at our place last night, but I you didn't come and find me. Thought I'd stop by and see what was up."

She watched him tread over to her couch with a fraction of annoyance, then shook it off. "Oh, no big deal," she said lightly. "I had an argument with Char. I was using your Earth Room as stress relief."

"Well I'm relieved. I've been in agony all morning, thinking you were two-timing me behind my back with some private." He put his hand over his chest, a dramatic gesture. "My heart was breaking."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "As if I've ever been anywhere near you heart," she said. Most days she would've found their banter amusing, but today she was distracted by the other things. She returned to the dishes, saw Wickham following her with his eyes in the periphery of her vision.

There was a lull in their conversation. _Don't ask him_, she thought. And yet she inserted into the pause, "I ran into Darcy, though."

"William was in my ship?"

Elizabeth tried to judge the tone. She detected surprise. She didn't know what else. "Maybe he was looking for you," she suggested.

Wickham snorted. "I seriously doubt that."

She turned around to look at him. She knew she shouldn't ask. She knew she should just let it go. But there were too many things she didn't know that she wanted to know. So she said, "He said you're his brother."

Wickham's expression, which had been impassive and unreadable, didn't change much. The only difference was that he shifted his gaze from her to stare off into the vague distance. And he was silent again, no longer joking. Elizabeth waited for him to speak.

Finally he said, perhaps more to himself, "It's interesting that he used the present tense." And then he shook off his rumination and turned to look directly at her again. He said, "I don't like to talk about this."

(She thought, _who are you kidding? You've been dying to talk about this._)

"But I fear you've been taken in by the Will Darcy phenomenon, and I care about you. I mean, I like you. You're one of those cool, no drama, low maintenance girls. And, okay, I care about me too and I don't want to be stuck here with you angsting over William's repressed, sensitive soul for months on end. So to expedite that process, I'm going to tell you the truth."

He paused. "Fine," she said, but folded her arms and hoped this conveyed her skepticism. She wasn't just going to buy whatever he told her, whether or not he thought she was a cool, no drama, low maintenance girl.

Wickham began: "I never knew my mom. My dad drove cars for a living, and he was more interested in that or getting drunk on his days off then he was with a kid. So it could've been a real sob story of a childhood, except that when I was four, he got a job chauffeuring for the elder Will Darcy, William's dad. And he just sort of took me in from the minute I got there. And then two years later my dad got drunk on his day off and took the car out anyway, and ran it into a tree. Will Darcy Sr. kept me on. He never legally adopted me or anything, but I don't know. He got guardianship somehow. So yeah, Will and me grew up together, and it was great for a while. But then it started changing. The thing was, his dad loved me more. I mean William, God love him and I do, but you've met him. He's hard to know."

He paused as if for an acknowledgement of the fact, so Elizabeth nodded. He went on.

"And he was the same as a kid, like really hard to warm up to. Anyway, the thing was Will started to get jealous and by the time we hit high school it was full-on sabotage. We were both going to this real swank prep school, but he got me in some fights and told enough lies that I got kicked out of there, and then he poisoned his father against me too. So before I knew it I was being called the bad influence and thrown out in the world to fend for myself."

As she listened, Elizabeth got the feeling that she had heard this story before. Or that she had read it. And then she realized: the story Wickham was telling her was so very similar to _The History of Tom Jones_. Was he making it all up, adapting it from some millennia-old novel? Or was it true? Was Will Darcy really just a bully and a saboteur?

Wickham continued: "William never contacted me until his dad died. I was already in the military then. It was only a few years ago this happened. Then he had to contact me. I guess I was still in the will, despite everything he'd told his father. Still, call me naïve, but I went back to Earth thinking about those good old days before Will had turned against me, hoping now there was a chance something to change back. But when I got there I met Giana. You know he has a sister?"

"Yes," Elizabeth said. "You'd never met her before?"

"She was from a second marriage. I'd met her, but I'd never known her really. We'd been away and school and all. Anyway, I went there for the funeral and hoping for a reconciliation with Will. I wasn't looking for Giana. But there she was. We fell in love."

He paused, perhaps for dramatic impact. Elizabeth's mind was racing. She knew, of course, where the story was going.

Wickham sighed. "Anyway, he did the same thing with Giana that he'd done with his father. Then he basically threw the money at me and this promotion to general and told me to get out of his life, and never to have any contact with him or his sister. Basically bought my silence. I was so...heartbroken, I just let him. And maybe that's on me but…" he trailed off and sighed. After a moment he added, "And then we didn't speak until we both ended up here."

He was finished, and looking at her for a response. She began to speak, hesitated, and began again. "That story, it sounds," she said slowly, "a lot like a book I've read."

Wickham's demeanor immediately changed, from victimized to annoyed. "Listen, time is long and there are a lot of books. Somebody's life is bound to end up sounding like one. I know mine does. And I don't tell it to many people."

"Sorry," she said. "And I'm sorry that happened to you." But honestly, she still wasn't ready to believe that it had happened to him. And she felt guilty. She felt guilty if she didn't believe him and she felt guilty if she did. She felt guilty most of all that she didn't want to believe him.

Wickham could tell she didn't trust his story, and she saw that it irritated him. But he tried to hide the irritation behind a smile. "People have had it worse than me," he said. Then someone called him on his radio and he had to go, leaving Elizabeth standing alone in the main room.

She knew what she had to do. Before she could second guess herself, she changed into a clean shirt headed out of the station, towards the Darcy ship.

* * *

Darcy was on a conference call with some very important people, according to most, bored out of his mind but trying to pay attention, when Chris walked in and set a note in front of him. His first thought was that he hadn't even known Chris was lurking about and that it was strange he wasn't spending their last day on Maia with Janie. Then he read the note.

It read: _Elizabeth is here for you?_

Darcy took the telephone off of speaker and covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "I'll go," he said to Chris. "Can you take over for five? If anyone notices I've stopped talking just…make up something clever."

"That's why you pay me the big bucks," Chris said wearily. The comment, and more than that the tone, gave Darcy pause. But he put it on the back burner for now and went to deal with his more pressing concern.

Elizabeth was waiting outside of the room. Leaning against the wall, she had her hand pressed to her forehead and a look on her face like she was thinking hard about something. She hadn't heard him come out. He took a breath.

"Hi," he said.

She started at the sound of his voice, dropped the hand to her side and straightened her body. "I need to talk to you," she said, gravely serious.

"I need to talk to you too, but I'm actually in a call right now."

"Oh," she said. She was unreadable.

"Can I come by the station after I'm finished here?" he asked.

She hesitated. For a minute he was sure she was going to tell him it wasn't important after all and the damn conference call was going to cost him a chance. But she said at last, "Yeah, that's fine."

He was relieved, but it was a false relief. He should've talked to her then. But he didn't know that. He couldn't have known.

* * *

Ultimately it wasn't George Wickham and his masterful storytelling that turned Elizabeth back around. It was that when she got back to the station Janie was there, sitting on the sofa watching grainy sitcoms. In the middle of the day. It was a very un-Janie like activity in the first place. In the second place, Chris was leaving the next day.

"Why aren't you with Chris?" Elizabeth asked as she sat down beside Janie on the couch.

Janie didn't answer immediately. Elizabeth looked at her, but she kept her vision fixed on the satellite screen and then she said, eerily calm, "Chris and I decided that this wasn't such a good idea."

"What?" Elizabeth asked.

Janie took a deep breath, but kept her brave face. "It's fine. Really. He just pointed out that practically it's not going to work. And I had to agree with him. I mean, like he said, what would this even look like? We live on opposite sides of the galaxy."

Elizabeth's head was swimming. For all her life, she hadn't seen this coming. And she was guessing Janie hadn't either. She shook her head. "Chris said this. Chris."

Janie nodded. But still—it didn't sound like Chris at all. Not that they were bosom pals, but she knew him well enough. Had she ever heard Chris use the word _practically_? And then Elizabeth realized: it sounded like someone else she knew. Exactly like someone else she knew.

And she thought about him saying, _I don't have that privilege. I have to think universally_.

And she thought about Wickham telling her, _he broke us up._

And she said, "You know that wasn't Chris. That was a line right out of Will Darcy's book of pragmatism."

Janie sighed. She switched off the satellite screen, and then there was no longer the constant chirp of television characters adding background noise to their conversation. Silence replaced it. Elizabeth was silent because she was waiting for Janie to acknowledge the truth of what she'd just said.

But when Janie spoke it was to say, "You don't need to find somebody to blame it on. Like I said, it's for the best. It was mutual."

Like hell it was mutual. It was written all over Janie that it wasn't mutual, no matter how nice or she was going to be about it. And Elizabeth was mad. She was made that Janie had gotten hurt, and she _knew _that it was Darcy's fault. She was mad that he had almost fooled her with his I-just-want-to-do-good speeches and his fake wounds. And she was mad at herself too, for discrediting Wickham that morning just because she had wanted to believe better of Darcy. Because she had a _crush _on him. How pathetic.

Elizabeth said, "Well, whether or not that mutual stuff is true, I would bet you everything I own Darcy planted that idea in Chris's mind and watered it. He's done shit like this before. He did it to—" She stopped herself midsentence. "Anyway, I'm pissed off for you even if you won't be pissed off for yourself. Which you have every right to be, you know."

Janie smiled in spite of everything. "Believe it or not, that little rant of yours there actually did make me feel better."

"Darcy makes a good scapegoat. We can pin all the world's problems on him." Elizabeth made the joke for Janie's sake, but she made it through clenched teeth and with a heavy heart. She was angry, but she was also sad.

Janie, still smiling, rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'm still not saying we can pin everything on Darcy. And I'm still saying it was mutual. But it's nice to have someone be angry for you."

"In that case, maybe we should find Char and get him in on this."

"Actually, believe it or not, the sitcoms are helping a lot," Janie admitted.

So Elizabeth left her to it.

* * *

Elizabeth was in her garden when Will finally found her later that day. Was he ready for this conversation? Not entirely, no. But he had expectations of it going well; call it presumptuous if you like. She like him. He knew it. He had changed her mind. After all, the night before she had kissed him back. So he had expectations. He did not know that stepping into the garden, he was really stepping into a minefield.

Her back was to him, but her body was alert as if she had heard him coming. And all of the sudden, he felt horribly, terrifyingly awkward. He didn't know what to say, how to open the conversation. It was a kind of self-doubt he wasn't used to. And why wouldn't she turn around?

He said, to say something, "Hey."

As inelegant as that was, she did finally face him. She seemed colder today, or was that just because he was nervous? Her face was stone, except for her eyes, which were lit up with something he didn't quite comprehend. But God, she was beautiful.

And he was kind of in love with her.

She said, "Do you have anything specific to say? Because I have a couple things, but I'll let you go first if you want."

If there was an edge to her voice, it passed by Will without registering. He was too overwhelmed by having reached the moment of truth.

Yeah," he said, "Yeah I do." He paused, and pushed a hand fretfully through his hair. Her eyes followed the gesture and then snapped back to his face. He still didn't know how to say it exactly. But he had to say something. So he blundered ahead.

"The thing is, I like you. And I know it's kind of ridiculous. Like, I've known you for less of than a month, and a lot of that has been us arguing, and you hated me for a long time without a good reason, and starting tomorrow we're going to be on opposite ends of the galaxy for a year at least. But there it is. I mean, I _really _like you."

He stopped, and there was silence. Elizabeth was still stone-faced, and the more she didn't speak, the more she just stood there and stared at him with those eyes like she was trying to see into him and find an answer there, the more nervous Will became that something terrible was going to happen.

At last she spoke. "I can see how that's _soooo _ridiculous," Elizabeth said. It wasn't sarcasm exactly. It was something closer to the pure hostility she had greeted him with when they had first met. He frowned. He didn't understand. What had happened?

"I didn't mean—" he began, but he was cut off.

"Chris broke up with Janie," Elizabeth abruptly interjected. "But I'm guessing you know that already."

The change of subject sent him reeling. No, he had not known that. And now he was thinking about Chris, who had been uncharacteristically quiet all day. And he'd had that tone earlier when he'd said, "That's why you pay me the big bucks." Of course Will remembered the conversation he and Chris had had about Janie, but he'd been in a George-related dark place when they'd had it. And now that was all about to come back on him in multiple ways. With Chris, and with Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was waiting for an answer, with that fire in her eyes that he could now identify as rage. But it was a misunderstanding, wasn't it? And he still thought he could turn it around. Maybe, just maybe, he could fix this.

* * *

"Actually," Darcy said, "I did not know that."

Elizabeth almost believed him, he was so good at the fake sincerity—the way he leveled his eyes to look directly into hers as she spoke. But anyway, whether he'd known about it or not, that wasn't the point.

"Are you going to try to say you had nothing to do with it?" she asked.

"Chris makes his own decisions. If you think he just follows me blindly through life, you're doing him a big discredit," Darcy replied. Elizabeth was upset, and she knew it could be heard in her voice. Darcy, on the other hand, was still calm. He spoke to her as if he thought he could smooth this over. It was only making her more upset.

"So you had nothing to do with it," she repeated.

He sighed, and his hand went involuntarily through his hair again—this time a movement of frustration. "We had a conversation about Janie, yes, and I told him what I thought. But that doesn't mean—"

She interrupted. "Did he _ask _you what you thought?"

"I had concerns. He's my friend. I don't think I need to be asked to help my friends," he said, and she could tell she was starting to get to him. Then he added, "You know, you're pretty free-and-loose with your opinions, whether or not people ask for them."

Almost immediately, he realized what he had said and began trying to backtrack. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

Again she didn't let him finish. "What concerns?" she asked. "What, she's not high and lofty enough for you and your friends? Not political enough?"

He looked at her with doleful eyes, but it was not enough. She was beyond retractions. He had done Janie harm. He had done worse to Wickham. So Elizabeth was not about to relent just because he made sad eyes at her. She waited for his answer.

Darcy let out another sigh. He had calmed himself back down, and began to explain rationally, "You have to understand Chris. He's…open. He trusts everyone. He likes everyone. He puts his heart into things prematurely, and I could tell that he was much deeper into this than Janie was."

"She's shy!" Elizabeth exploded. "Janie really liked him! She's just shy!"

"I was only trying to look out for my friend," he said, unapologetic.

And so she shot something else at him: "What about George?"

Up until now had been answering her questions openly, but at the mention of George's name his whole demeanor changed. He was on guard. She could almost literally see a wall go up, and she was back on the outside of the circle.

He took a step closer to her, and volleyed the question back, his voice low and tense. "What _about _George?"

Elizabeth raised her chin ever so slightly, wanting Darcy to know she wasn't intimidated. "You did the same thing to him," she said. "You did the same thing to your own sister. You—" She paused, searching for the word, and she found it. "You bully people. You're a bully. And you think you're better than him."

"Yeah, I do. I am better than him," Darcy said. "But at least I don't think I'm better than everyone. You know, you've been on me since I got here about how I think I'm above the common man, but of either of us is the elitist it's you for sure."

If there was ever a point at which the conversations could've ended amicably, it had long passed. Elizabeth hated him. She hated, hated, hated him. She could barely believe she had wanted him to kiss her only the night before.

She said, "I have never said I was better than anyone."

A short, bitter laugh escaped Darcy. He said, "Oh, but you think it. Nobody meets your standards because they're impossibly high."

"If I'm judging you for anything, it's for the fact that you betrayed a man who you yourself call your brother because of some petty jealous or daddy issues or—"

This time, it was Darcy who interrupted her. "I'm not going to listen to this," he said. "I've already heard it, and I don't have to listen to it again."

And he turned and walked away. Without another word. Just like that. Elizabeth had the urge to call after him. She wanted to get in the last word, to send one final shot back to Earth with him. But she suddenly she couldn't think of anything more to say. All the anger went out of her at once and she just felt unhappy, watching him until he had disappeared.

"Fuck," she shouted, but Darcy was gone, and she only said it to empty space.

* * *

When Will made it back to the ship, he ran into Chris on his way up to his room. Chris looked him over and said, "You look like you just got run over by a bus."

"I have no idea what just happened," Will said, and it was all he could say. He still felt shell-shocked. The George thing, he definitely hadn't seen that coming from Elizabeth. But probably he should've known.

Then, remembering her other accusation, he called to Chris who was already moving along past him down the hall, "Hey, those thing I said the other night about Janie—"

But Chris waved him off. "Let's just be glad we're getting off this fucking rock first thing tomorrow."

And Will could agree with that.

* * *

Elizabeth didn't want to see Janie or Char or Lydia. Not one of them knew anything about what had been going on with Darcy. She couldn't explain this fight to them, nor could she explain the state she was in. And so she headed to the military ship and found Wickham.

He gave her a look of wariness as she knocked on the door to his quarters. She couldn't blame him for it, after the way she had dismissed him earlier that day, when he had told her his story. She still wasn't sure about that story. She still thought there were holes in it, things he wasn't telling her, and it was still alarmingly similar to what she'd read in that novel from Darcy's shelf. But she had no choice now but to believe him, because she no longer believed in Darcy. She'd committed to Wickham's version of the truth.

So she said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked, as he ushered her inside and let the door shut behind her.

She sat down on his bed because there was nowhere else to sit, and he took a seat beside her. "For not believing you earlier when you told me about Darcy. For giving you a hard time."

"You believe me now?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes," she said, and willed herself to mean it.

George broke into a smile. Their hands were between them on the bed. He covered hers with his.

**

* * *

**

A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Sorry this is so long in coming. The end of that last semester buried me alive under finals and papers. Promise chapters will come quicker now that that's over.

**Anyway, thus concludes Part I. Pleeeeease review! And thank you all for your wonderful reviews last chapter. They filled me with great joy.**


	12. Part II, Chapter 1

**PART II**

which features:  
a dune buggy, two unsent letters, the Bennetts at home,  
President Catherine de Bourgh, classical piano, a vaguely worded note,  
celebrity gossip, a wrench in the water recycling system,  
and a practical definition of _in love_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 1**

_Five months later_

Elizabeth had gone out for a walk when she heard the sirens from the military ship. The sound was becoming too familiar. She glanced towards the military station and then towards the sky, but dark as it was she could see nothing. She could only imagine the Ceres ships closing in above her head. She turned around, and began a brisk walk back to the station, which soon turned into a jog.

In as short as five months, Elizabeth's predictions had come true. The war had come to Maia.

Janie was waiting for her on the inside of the station.

"Lydia?" Elizabeth asked, as she let the station door slam behind her. Janie shook her head. "Alright, let's go," Elizabeth said. They headed into the lab, Elizabeth grabbing their radio on the way. The radio was a one-way to the military ship. She began trying to call.

Janie and Elizabeth had never really figured out which part of the station best sufficed as a bomb shelter, but had eventually made an arbitrary decision to use the lab. Had Char been with them, he would've known which part of the station they should use. Or perhaps he could've reinforced some part of the station for them to make it better suited. But Char was no longer with them. He'd been pulled off of Maia shortly after the troops had arrived. The powers that were saw no reason to fund an engineer-slash-body-guard on the planet when they had the military at their disposal.

Of course, there was no place in the station that was built strong enough to be a proper bomb shelter, and Elizabeth and Janie knew they had just been lucky not to have been hit yet.

And Lydia complicated things further. Elizabeth had tried to send her back to Earth with Char. But Lydia, who had found life on a desert planet to be much more entertaining and boy-ridden than expected, argued strongly against it. And though Elizabeth tried to point out the logic of Lydia returning home to her father, Robert Bennett was much too happy to have his younger daughter out of sight and out of mind.

The problem with Lydia was that she paid no heed to the fact that Maia had become a war zone. It was impossible to keep her near the station without handcuffing her to something large and heavy. And Elizabeth had no handcuffs. So she rarely knew where her sister was when the sirens went off.

Inside the lab, Janie paced and Elizabeth continued to try to radio the military ship. After the twelfth or thirteenth try, she cast the radio down in frustration.

"Dammit," she muttered.

Janie looked at her with sympathy. "I'm sure she's safe inside the ship."

And probably Lydia was safe inside the military ship. Where else would she have been? Still, Elizabeth would have liked to have known this for sure.

They waited, they waited, for hours and hours, listening to the sounds of ships and bombs and sirens. Neither said much. Both seemed to be holding their breath. They were used to this by now; at the same time, they would never be used to it. Finally the world outside of the station seemed to quiet. They waited another hour, and then they emerged.

It was morning. Janie had slept some in the lab. Elizabeth had not. But instead of heading to the bedroom, she planned to go straight off to have a word with General Wickham, while the adrenaline was still kicking in her system.

Outside of the station, the dune buggy was parked in its usual spot. Will Darcy had left it the day he had gone, some time when Elizabeth hadn't been around. Char and Janie had taken to it immediately, but Elizabeth had not gone near it for a full month after Darcy left, instead making wide, suspicious circles around the vehicle. She could not fathom the meaning of the gift, but after a month she accepted that there probably was no mean beyond general courtesy. And even if this was Will Darcy trying to get the last word in, what could it possibly matter now?

She climbed into the buggy, and pointed it in the direction of the military ship. When she arrived, she was pleased to be greeted at the entrance by Johnson, one of the soldiers whom she got on with pretty well and who seemed to do his best to steer clear of the vortex that was Lydia.

"Hey Johnson," she said.

He gave her an almost smile. "I saw your sister before the raid. Sure she inside somewhere," he said, anticipating her reason for showing up.

These days, collecting Lydia was one of the few reasons Elizabeth did grace the military ship with her presence. After Darcy had left, she and Wickham had been at an interesting place—certainly not in love, probably not even in like, but acting out a charade to that effect. The truth was, she had never been a hundred percent convinced by his story about Will Darcy. And the better she knew him, the more his character revealed itself to be layers of intricate lies, lies he told to hide a true self that was really very selfish.

When he'd turned out to have a fiancé on one of the Far East planets—Mary King, daughter of somebody of great military importance, the kind of marriage that was sure to improve his position in the world—Elizabeth hadn't even batted an eye. This had been about a month after Darcy's departure. She'd started driving the dune buggy, but stopped heading in George Wickham's direction.

It wasn't much of a loss.

But now she had something to say to him. "Where's the General?" she asked Johnson, who told her that the last place he'd seen him was around back.

She circled the military ship and found Wickham there, reaming out a group of soldiers who had apparently done something stupid during the raid. Elizabeth waited. At last he dismissed the soldiers, turned around, and saw her.

He acted pleased, flashing her the George Wickham grin, an expression that had ceased to make an impression on her long ago. "Elizabeth. To what do I owe this distinct honor?"

Elizabeth folded her arms, ready for battle. Her conversations with Wickham had been strained lately, to say the least. She expected no exception today. She said, "I'm hoping my sister is here under your protection. Alive. Since I wouldn't know one way or another, seeing as nobody here answers when I radio."

A scowl darkened his face, and he started off towards God knew where, leaving Elizabeth to trot after him in order to hear his reply.

He said, "If you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a war. I can't be asked to pause and locate Lydia when there are Ceres ships dropping bombs on my men's heads."

"Fine. Then bar her from coming here and I'll know where she is because she'll be with me. I'm happy to deal with the temper tantrums myself."

When Wickham didn't reply, Elizabeth added, "You have a civilian population of exactly three people, and I'm only asking your help keeping track of one."

He stopped walking with a suddenness that startled her, and turned around to face her. "Elizabeth," he said sadly, "when I first got here, I thought you and I were going to be such friends."

She held his gaze with her own clear eyes, but she did not speak.

He said, "I should have told you about Mary King. And I shouldn't have told you about Darcy."

As with every time she heard the name—on the news or talk shows or from her mother—Elizabeth felt the pang of regret. She swallowed it. She said, calmly, "Why, because you were lying?"

He shook his head remorsefully. "No. Because you never believed me."

She did not want to go down this road with him again. It was a conversation they'd had before. She said, "All I ask is that if Lydia is here when the sirens go off, you have someone call me to let me know she's safe. That's all."

He frowned, as if surprised by her response. Then he sighed. He said with a resigned intonation, "Perfectly reasonable. I will do so."

Elizabeth left him to go collect her sister. But Lydia did not wish to leave, nor did she see the point in her leaving when a raid had just ended and another obviously wouldn't happen for some time. Elizabeth did not see the point in arguing. She left her in the company of a red-headed boy and found Wickham on her way out, who promised to drive Lydia back to the station later on in the day.

She arrived back to find Janie on the satellite with Char.

"No Lydia?" Janie asked, as Elizabeth seated herself beside her on the couch.

Elizabeth shrugged. "I extracted a promise from Wickham to let me know if she's over there during the raids, but we'll see if that pans out."

Char, on his end of the screen, looked unhappy. "Janie says it's getting bad out there."

Elizabeth nodded. "It's a little dicey, but they haven't hit us yet," she said ruefully.

Char said, "Well, I have a plan that might do us some good, but if it's going to happen, it's going to have to happen fast. Like now. There's a ship leaving from Bisbee for Earth in three days. If one of you is on it, I can get you a meeting at the White House when you get here."

Elizabeth didn't ask how because she knew how. The wonder was that Char was still seeing something of Drew Collins, even now that he was back on Earth with a world of other options. And Collins was, amongst other things, pretty high up in the hierarchy White House personnel. Char was pulling all the strings he could for them.

"How would Janie get back to Maia?" Elizabeth asked him.

"Me?" Janie was clearly surprised that Elizabeth saw her as the right person to go, but Elizabeth nodded.

Char explained: "A week on Earth then the ship goes back to Bisbee."

It probably wasn't much of a chance, but it felt like they had to take any chance they could, however small. Elizabeth said to Janie, "You up for it?"

Janie shook her head. "Are you kidding me? You're far more the diplomat then I am."

True as this might have been, there were other reasons Elizabeth did not think she should be their emissary. She sighed, and said it out loud. "Trust me, I am the last person in this universe Will Darcy is going to listen to."

"Oh the meeting wouldn't be with Darcy," Char interjected. "It would be with the President."

Janie blew the air out of her lungs in a whistle. She gave Elizabeth a nudge with her elbow. "Oh, this one is _so _all yours."

Still, Elizabeth wasn't convinced. "But you'll be out here by yourself for nearly a month," Elizabeth said with a frown. She didn't like the idea. She did, however, like the idea that this would be a prime opportunity to drop Lydia back off on Earth. No longer would she have to worry about where that girl was and what she was up to.

"I'll be fine," Janie said. "Besides, if we do nothing we will both end up dead by explosion before the year is up."

"Janie, don't say things like that," Char said crossly. But Janie didn't retract her statement, and it was probably true enough. Char added. "You both know I wish I were out there with you. I've tried everything."

He sent Elizabeth a pointed look, and she knew why. The truth was, he had tried _almost _everything, talked to _almost _everyone to try to get funding back and return to Maia. He had wanted to try talking to Will Darcy as a last resort, but Elizabeth had made him swear on his life that he wouldn't. She was too embarrassed. She couldn't ask Will Darcy for anything. He had already given her a dune buggy.

"So," she said to Janie and Char. "Is this a plan? Are we committing?"

Janie nodded and Char said, "I think so."

"So all I have to do is convince George Wickham to have someone fly me and Lydia out to Bisbee tomorrow," Elizabeth said. "Oh, I am so looking forward to this conversation."

"If you have sex with him first, it might go better," Char suggested.

She scowled at him. "If I could punch you in the face, I would," she said.

He shrugged and grinned. "Just trying to be helpful." God, she missed having him around.

And she would see him soon. But for now, she left Char and Janie to talk and went to the bedroom to begin packing. It didn't take long, because there wasn't much to take with her. In fact, there was probably more of her stuff in storage in her parents' basement then there was here. So once she was done, she began packing Lydia's stuff to get a head start on it.

George arrived with Lydia sometime during this process. Lydia announced her presence by barging into the bedroom and demanding, "What do you two think you're doing?"

"What two? Did Wickham leave?" Elizabeth stood as she asked the second question, prepared to chase after him if necessary.

But Lydia shook her head. She had a petulant scowl on her face, and Elizabeth realized that she must already know that they were leaving. "Janie's out there talking to him. She says I'm going back to Earth. Which I'm not."

"We both are," Elizabeth said. She sat back down on the floor and continued with the packing.

"Stop doing that!" Lydia demanded.

Elizabeth stopped, but only so that she could look directly at her sister as she spoke. "Lydia," she began wearily. "There's a war going on here. I know there are some boys you like, but there are plenty of boys on Earth and no bombs."

But Lydia didn't relent at all. She crossed her arms defiantly. "You're so condescending sometimes. This isn't just me screwing around with some guy or whatever, you know. I'm _in love_. You can't take me away from that. It's wrong, and you can't do it."

"With who?" Elizabeth asked incredulously, for this was the first time _in love_ had been mentioned in her presence. As far as she knew there were still several different soldiers between whom Lydia was dividing her time.

A guilty look crossed Lydia's face, and she spat out, "None of your business."

To be honest, it didn't matter that much anyway who Lydia thought she was in love with. The end result would be the same. She was going back to Earth. Elizabeth continued packing. "I'm sorry it has to be this way," she said. "But it does."

Lydia turned on her heals, and exited the room. Shortly after, Elizabeth heard a door slam. She guessed it was the door to the other bedroom, and that Lydia had locked herself inside to throw a passive-aggressive fit. Elizabeth stood and made her way outside of the station. There, she found Janie talking to Wickham.

Janie said, "Wickham says it's fine."

"Thanks," Elizabeth said to Wickham.

He nodded. "Better get back," he said, and with that he left.

"It's probably a good thing you talked to him about it," Elizabeth said to Janie, once they were alone. "He wouldn't have done it for me."

"He _is_ doing it for you," Janie said.

Elizabeth sighed. Why were people so complicated and so hard to figure? It seemed like she would always be doing someone an injustice.

* * *

**A/N: Hurray, a quicker update! Yes, this chapter was all Elizabeth and the next one will be all Will. Thanks as always for all your amazing reviews. It warms my sci-fi heart that you all have embraced this story :)**

**Cheers and happy New Year to all!**


	13. Part II, Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Two unsent letters:

_Dr. Bennett,_

_I am not writing this to you to secure your vote, to build myself up at another's expense, to bully you in any way, or with any of the other base motives you are surely ascribing to me as you read. I'm writing simply because I know what George told you, and I have a right to defend myself. Surely even you can allow that._

_I told you George is my brother. Strictly speaking that isn't true, as I'm sure you know. But we grew up as brothers, and for many years he was the best friend I had._

_I won't bore you with all of the particulars of my upbringing. Doubtless you know something of my history, most people do. If you don't the information is readily available enough. Simply let me say that growing up George and I were thick as thieves, to use a very old cliché. And little changed in that regard until half way through high school, when George was expelled for fighting. We were both fighting. We both should've been expelled if one of us was. But I was a Darcy. George was not, and my father could only be bothered to exert his influence so far._

_In fact, my father soon after decided that George was a bad influence in the household, so at sixteen he was abandoned to forge his own way in the galaxy. I don't know what he did for the next two years. I sent him what money I could and he sent me letters filled with adventures which may or may not have been true. He sent me _The History of Tom Jones_, which I think you read._

_At eighteen he joined the army, and I heard less and less from him. The last time I saw him during those years, I was at college. He was on leave and he came to see me. I remember being struck with how different this person was from the person I remembered. On the surface he seemed almost the same George, ready with a joke or a story. But underneath that, he was angry. He hated my father. Perhaps it had already begun to spill over onto me._

_After that, I heard less of him still until finally I heard nothing at all. Then two years ago my father died. George was not in the will, but I pretended that he was and had him tracked down._

_I should probably pause to mention Gianna. She's my half-sister, as you may know. At this time she was fifteen._

_George took a leave and came back to Earth, and for a while all seemed well. He seemed less angry (but perhaps he had only learned to better disguise it). He got on well with Gianna. I thought we were brothers again._

_He has told you they fell in love, Gianna and him. I can't speak for George. I don't pretend to understand him or his motives anymore. I wish that I did. I can only say that Gianna certainly fell in love with him. She was at that age where falling in love is the easiest and most natural thing to do. All the while, I was so pleased at my reconstituted family getting along together, I didn't see what was in front of me. The blinders were on my eyes. Then one day they just disappeared. Gianna left a note to say they were going to Malderin, a planet where a girl can be married at sixteen without needing anyone's consent._

_At the time, I didn't tell anyone what had happened, not even Chris. I made up a story about her going to school somewhere, and then I did everything I could to find them. I had little hope. It's a dense planet, too many places to hide. After three months, I had all but despaired. I had no way of knowing whether she was even still with him, or whether he'd found a way of disposing of her. George's history with women was well enough known to me, and sordid at best._

_But then George contacted me. They were still on Malderin, both of them, but no longer in love, if they ever were. By this time they had both grown miserable with each other's company. Gianna was still two months away from sixteen. George traded her back to me for a promotion, which I used my influence to procure. _

_The next time I saw him, you were there. So if you ever wondered why I said I didn't trust him, now you know. That is, assuming you trust me enough to regard this explanation as the truth._

_There are very few people who know the particulars about my sister. I rely on your discretion, and sincerely wish you the best. I know I left you in a vulnerable position. George has quite a lot of power over the three of you out there alone. So I tell you these things not to whitewash my reputation, but for your own sake as well. I think you should know who he is._

_Will Darcy_

_

* * *

_

_George—_

_What the fuck is wrong with you?_

__

_

* * *

_

"You've been pushing this rather hard lately, haven't you Darcy?" President Catherine de Bourgh asked. The question, and more so the tone, was meant to probe his motives. Her imposing desk stood in between them. From behind it, she mercilessly held his gaze. Catherine de Bourgh was an ageless, impressive woman, who at twenty-eight had entered the political scene as a representative from an obscure and sparsely-populated planet. Her achievements, spanning a lifetime, had culminated with her two successful terms as president. Yet for Catherine de Bourgh, seventy-five was young. She had no intention of bowing out now.

Will shifted his weight in his chair and was annoyed with himself for the involuntary fidget. He knew that the President would attribute it to nerves. He said, "New Bisbee is an undeniably important planet. Excuse me, Mrs. President, but I can't believe you'd be willing to sacrifice it to a war that was never about it in the first place."

The Earth-Ceres war—which boiled down to a seven-year stalemate—had had nothing to do with the Outer Colonies. The war was over a cluster of planets in between, but technically outside of either empire's boarders. Then the troops had gone to Maia, and in as short a span as four months, Elizabeth Bennett had been proven right. The war had moved inwards. It was only a matter of time until it reached Bisbee.

President de Bourgh said, "And of course, you need to solidify your political reputation. But I didn't realize pacifism was going to be part of your platform."

It was a challenge that Will didn't take up. He remained silent. President de Bourgh was stonewalling him once again, had been for months. Perhaps it was a wrist slap for the fact that he had shown no intention of marrying her daughter, a deed that she wanted to see done before she left office. At any rate, there were only so many ways he could repeat the same concerns to her about the Outer Colonies without boring even himself. He was reaching that limit.

"At the moment," she rejoined, after an extended pause. "I'm satisfied with the way things are developing in the Outer Colonies." She took her eyes from him and returned them to a stack of papers on her desk. He knew he was thus dismissed. He thanked her for her time, rose, and left the room.

Outside of the president's office, a television screen caught his attention, which was playing the news. Watching it as he walked, he nearly collided with Anne. Will managed to catch himself before the actual impact took place and apologized.

"Sorry, Anne. I wasn't paying attention."

She smiled meekly, wrapping her arms around the book she was holding and pulling it to her chest like a shield. "That's okay," she said. "Is my mother free?"

"Yes, I just left her."

Anne nodded. "Okay," she said. She hesitated, then dropped her eyes to the floor and continued on her way past him.

Anne de Bourgh. He sighed and he watched her go. It was tempting sometimes. They were both good people after all, he and Anne, and he had no doubt that she would make someone a quiet, helpful, supportive wife. And that person would have the political backing of Catherine de Bourgh, a thing that went a long way these days. And that person could be him, if he so chose.

He liked Anne as a person, though she was shy and spent too much time looking at the floor. But that was all. And Will was burdened with principles and pride, neither of which would allow him to marry for the sake of political convenience. So he let Anne pass him by and went on his way to his office. Once there, he sat and turned on his own TV to the news, for the story had been about the war on Maia. It was an indulgence and a torture to allow himself to watch.

The phone rang. He paused for a second to figure out which, realized it was not his desk phone, then had to shuffle through the clutter on his desk to find his cell. At last he did, and answered, "Will Darcy speaking."

"God, how formal." It was Caroline. "Do you have to do that when it's someone you know?"

He decided not to tell her he had never saved her number, at the same time making a mental note to do so. So that he could occasionally hit ignore. He said, "Sorry, I didn't look. What can I do for you?"

"Oh, _that's _less formal," she said teased. It riled him, and he was already not in the best of moods. He resisted the urge to hang up on her. _Chris's sister, _he said to himself. _Be nice._

Fortunately, Caroline continued without encouragement. "Your sister and I want to know if our siblings will be joining us for dinner as planned, or if we shouldn't count on it."

"Course we are," he said, somewhat distracted by Chris's entrance into the room. He muted his television as Chris walked in. But the screen grabbed Chris's attention anyway, and Will felt like a guilty child, caught doing something he knew he shouldn't be doing. He was just waiting for someone to ask him why he was still on about Maia, and dreading the question—because he had no good answer for it.

At least no one knew that he'd set his satellite at home to filter and record all news items about the planet and the war. Technology. How it ever increased your ability to be creepy and obsessive.

"Good," Caroline said, satisfied. "Then we'll count on you. And I'll leave you to it till then."

Will hung up. Chris was still watching the TV, without sound as it was. Will considered, then turned it off, and Chris turned his attention back to Will.

"Think this can be done in a reasonable amount of time?" Will asked, referring to the press conference to which they were heading. "I just promised us to our sisters for dinner."

"That was optimistic of you."

Will shrugged. Chris added, "I just saw Anne..." and let the sentence drift off into subtle implications.

Will, disturbed by both the comment and the implications, regarded his friend with misgiving. "Really?" he asked.

It was Chris's turn to shrug. "Wouldn't be the worse move you ever made."

Will sighed. He felt suddenly sad and old. Had it already come to this? Perhaps the chance for truth and integrity, for being a human being, had come on Maia and had remained there with Elizabeth and George when he had left. Perhaps from now on his life would only be this—ambition and compromise.

He said to Chris: "I knew this would happen. Political life has at last corrupted your pure nature. I can only blame myself for dragging you down with me." It was said as a joke despite Will's overwhelming suspicion that it was true.

"So you're saying I should cross the moonlight walk on the beach with the young Miss de Bourgh off your calendar? Chris replied. And Will realized that he was kidding, had probably been kidding this whole conversation. He felt relieved.

So, shaking off all of his uncomfortable introspection and rolling his eyes, he stood and said, "Let's go."

They were done in time for dinner, but it was a close call and they had to meet Caroline and Gianna at the restaurant. On the drive, Chris reopened the subject that was on both of their minds, despite the press conference on education.

"I'm guessing the president blew you off about Maia."

Will, who had been staring absently out of the window, turned sharply to look at Chris. He tried to keep the Maia agenda to himself, even excluded Chris from this one personal crusade. But Chris had a way of knowing everything. Will nodded, resigned. "Pretty much."

There was a silence so long that Will resumed his gazing out the window with the idea that the conversation about Maia was over. But Chris rejoined, "Tell me this Maia thing is not just about thwarting George. Not that he doesn't deserve a good thwarting. But…well, it wouldn't be entirely healthy.

This time, Will didn't turn from the window. "It's not," he said.

* * *

Dinner was a strained affair, with him and Chris both sort of gloomy. Will did his best, but he knew he was meeting Caroline's desire for attention with less than she hoped for. Chris spoke when spoken to. Poor Gianna had to pick up the slack.

"You know," she said on the ride home, when it was just her and Will. "You two haven't been the same since you got back from the outer colonies. Neither of you. You're moody."

Just eighteen, Gianna was an old soul with insights beyond her years—perhaps because of the things that had already happened to her. As a Darcy, she had inherited a certain degree of celebrity by birthright. But she had grown into it with grace and poise. Will knew she was destined to eclipse him, a fact that he relished rather than resented.

"Was it George?" she asked.

He said, "Partly."

He could've just said yes. He had told her about George when they'd first gotten back from Maia, realizing that she would probably find out somehow and it would be best coming from him. She had taken it better than he'd expected, sitting across from him quiet and calm as he explained about George's unexpected appearance in the Outer Colonies. When he'd finished, she'd asked, "How are you?" Then noticing his surprise, she'd clarified why her concern was mainly for him. "He's only my ex-boyfriend," she said. "He's still your family."

So Will could've said, yes it was George. It was explanation enough. Now Gianna would be wondering what else.

The car parked in front of their house. He thanked the driver, and he and his sister both stepped outside. It was freezing. Will pulled his coat closer around him as the wind cut into him. He wondered, as he often did, when they rebuilt the Earth capital for the fifth time, why they had chosen to build it someplace with this kind of weather. As if there was some virtue in suffering. The cold stifled conversation. Will waited until they were safely inside the Darcy estate.

Almost immediately after the front door was shut behind him he said, "Those girls on Maia, I think Chris was in love with one of them."

It was a statement he could've just as easily made about himself. And maybe he had meant to. Maybe he had meant to say, "Those girls on Maia, I think I was in love with one of them." But at the last moment it hadn't come out.

Gianna was unwinding her scarf from around her neck. "Caroline talked him down?" she guessed.

He nodded. It was very true from what he had gathered. They moved into a living room, and Gianna set down at the piano, lightly plucking out a few measures from some familiar-sounding classical piece. She said, "And you were a part of the talking down?"

He nodded again, then realized her back was to him now and answered. "Yeah, I think I was a little."

"What was wrong with the girl?" Gianna asked.

Will leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with tiredness and frustration. He couldn't for the life of him remember what had been so wrong with Janie Bloom. "I don't know," he admitted. "She lived on Maia."

Gianna slid around on the piano bench to face him, stretching her arms and legs out in front of her and then relaxing into a comfortable position. "Will," she said. "I know that Caroline wants Chris for me, and don't take this the wrong way because I love him like a brother, but…" She paused. "Well, I love him like a brother."

"Oh Gianna," he said. "I know that. Besides which he's too old for you."

She nodded and smiled, looking relieved. "Just making sure we were on the same page about that."

"Don't worry. Everyone is on the same page about that except Caroline."

"As usual."

He would've scolded her to be nice, but she gave him the most innocent expression and distracted him with another question: "What were they like? The scientists on Maia?"

The question came without warning. Before he knew it he had spent an hour telling her all about Dr. Elizabeth Bennett.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, in my version Darcy writes the letter but doesn't send it. I dunno. Just felt right to me. Anyway, one more chapter of Darcy and Elizabeth parted, and then the grand reunion will take place. The more people who review, the more I'll be inspired to speed-update! Ah, bribery. Never gets old.**

**Love to all! Thanks for all the awesome feedback!**


	14. Part II, Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Lydia wasn't talking to her. Elizabeth had expected something like that, but she hadn't expected it to last the entire week-long trip to Earth, plus the forty minutes it took to drive the Bennett home once they'd landed on the planet. But Lydia's commitment to her passive-aggressive warfare really was quite remarkable. By the time they'd reached the front door of their parents' home, she still had not said one word to Elizabeth that wasn't strictly necessary.

When Elizabeth knocked, Rose and Robert opened the door immediately, as if they had been waiting directly on the other side. Elizabeth and Lydia were thrown into a series of hugs, which Lydia barely reciprocated. Rose was saying a million things at once. Robert was rolling his eyes, but grinning. And Elizabeth had to remind them both that it was freezing outside and they were still standing out front in an open doorway.

"Not used to this weather anymore, then?" Robert teased.

Elizabeth laughed. "Nobody should be used to this weather."

Once inside, Lydia immediately pounded up the stairs to her room, still sullen. Rose looked forlornly after her daughter. Perhaps it wasn't healthy—certainly it wasn't the portrait of a perfect home—but each of the Bennetts undeniably had their favorite child. There were factions in the Bennett family—Robert and Elizabeth, Rose and Lydia.

"She's mad about coming back," Elizabeth explained, as all eyes had followed Lydia's ascent. "Maybe you should try to talk to her, mom. She's been giving me the silent treatment."

Rose huffed and frowned at Elizabeth, as if she'd done something to deliberately make Lydia upset. Then she went up the stairs after Lydia, leaving Elizabeth alone with her father.

"I see you've brought me back a world of trouble," he said good-humoredly.

"She's your daughter," Elizabeth pointed out. "And it's not like she could stay out there in the middle of a war zone."

"What could be the harm?" Robert asked. Although he was certainly not serious, Elizabeth frowned at him.

"Dad," she said. "You have got to do something about that girl's boy-centrism. It's out of control. And you know mom encourages it."

She had set her bags down and they moved into the living room to sit down. "Lydia likes boys. She's always liked boys, she always will like boys," Robert said with a dismissive wave of the hand. "You like work. You're different people."

Something in Elizabeth reacted against the comment, as true as it might have appeared from a glance at their lives. So she said, "Wow, way to boil your daughters down into two archaic stereotypes."

Robert said, "All I'm saying is I don't see the harm in it."

The discussion seemed to be going no where, so Elizabeth merely replied, "And for the record, I do like boys. I just don't plan my life around them."

"Your mother is still upset with you for not hooking Will Darcy when you had the chance," he teased.

The mention of the name made Elizabeth uncomfortable. Would she ever escape it? She couldn't, in all honesty, say to her father, _I never had the chance. _Will Darcy _had been _attracted to her. He'd kissed her. He'd said as much.

She said, "Okay, I'm laying this ground rule down now. No one mentions the name Will Darcy in my presence."

Robert laughed. "I see the irrational dislike for our fine presidential hopeful has prevailed."

It was exactly irrational and it wasn't exactly dislike, but Elizabeth decided to let that one slide, instead of trying to explain a feeling to her father that she had not yet been able to explain to herself. And anyway, Rose had reentered the room.

"Your sister says she was in love," she said to Elizabeth. The tone was that of a reprimand. Elizabeth knew she was once again being cast as the heartless career bitch, who had parted the young lovers because of her own shriveled-up heart. This really wasn't fair. Elizabeth doubted Lydia's _in love _as much as she had legitimate reasons for making her leave Maia.

"They're dropping bombs out there, mom. Besides, isn't Lydia always in love with someone? She'll be over it and move onto the next victim in a week flat."

Rose made a ticking sound with her tongue, as she always did when she disapproved of something Elizabeth had said—which happened more often than not. "Well I wouldn't expect you to understand," she said derisively. "But you can't expected your sister to do the same just because you pass up every opportunity—Will Darcy, Drew Collins—"

It seemed wise to ignore the second mention of Darcy. Elizabeth jumped on the accusation she could more easily defend herself against. "Mom, you know Collins is with Char now. How exactly am I supposed to compete with _he likes men_?"

Her mother made the clicking noise again, as if to say this was hardly an excuse. Elizabeth felt weary. Sometimes it was a trial, being Rose Bennett's daughter. She only valued one thing, and at that one thing Elizabeth had thus far failed.

"Leave her alone Rose," Robert said. "Lizzy's done good for herself. Anyway, who needs a good-for-nothing man?" He winked at Elizabeth, who smiled.

Rose pointed a plump finger at her husband. Her face wore a fierce expression. She said with a fair dose of the dramatic, "You are the reason I'll never have grand children."

It was an all too familiar conversation. Elizabeth had the excuse of being tired to excuse herself to bed. As much as she did love her family, a little went a long way. She was more than glad to be going the Char's the next day.

* * *

After having chance run-ins with Anne de Bourgh five days in a row, Darcy began to wonder. Was Anne putting herself in his way? Or was this still Catherine de Bourgh position them like chess pieces, trying to give him the extra push? The former was concerning. The later was less concerning and more annoying.

He consulted Chris.

"I don't see how it makes that much of a difference," Chris said. "You're made your intention-less-ness more than abundantly clear."

"I don't' think intention-less-ness is a word," Will said.

"Definitely not."

There was a pause. Will said, "What concerns me is that there are those who pay not heed to intention-less-ness."

"You of course mean like Caroline."

Will would not have actually named names. But yes, like Caroline. He hardly needed another Caroline.

Chris laughed at Will's lack of response. "Don't worry, Darce. I hardly blame you for not wanted to eternally bind your soul to my sister, God love her."

"It's not that there's anything wrong with Caronline—" Will began to explain, but Chris waved him off as if to say, _don't bother._ So Will didn't bother.

"You know that time I told you marrying Anne wouldn't be your worse idea and your freaked out a little?" Chris asked.

"You mean last week?" Will laughed. "No, it totally slipped my mind."

Chris nodded. "Well, I've decided to stand by that. The thing is, I'm worried you're going to die alone."

"You're concern is touching," Will said dryly. Chris just shrugged.

The next day, he had t be at a meeting of intergalactic representatives. Climbing into the back of a car, he expected to find himself sitting beside Drew Collins—still pervasive although slightly less cloying these days. But instead, when he slipped inside he was startled to find Anne beside him, and he was sure the feeling showed on his face. She had no place in the car. She had no place at a meeting of intergalactic representatives.

His surprise, annoyance, apprehension—it was a whole series of emotions, and none of them positive—stripped him of any conversation. They sat in silence for the entire ride. He stared intently out of his window. It was awkward, yes, and he knew he was coming off and imperious and cold. But he didn't want to encourage her. And besides that, he literally could think of nothing to say.

The car stopped, and he was about to get out when Anne spoke. Quiet, timid Anne. She said, "It's just as embarrassing for me as it is for you, you know." And then she thrust herself out of the car and slammed the door before he could summon a reply.

He felt relieved.

He felt sorry for acting so aloofly towards her basically all the time.

He felt interested by her for the first time ever. Perhaps it was legitimate path, marrying Anne de Bourgh. Taking the easy road. Perhaps it was a choice worth considering.

Still, not wanting a repeat of the ride out, Will opted for a walk after the meeting instead of taking the car directly back. It was more a relief than he'd even expected it to be, slipping away from the politics and into anonymity. He just walked. He kept his head down, so that there was less of chance that someone would recognize him until he wandered into a residential zone. There he felt more at ease. He pocketed his hands and surveyed his surroundings as he strolled.

Turning a street corner, he saw something that gave him pause. It was a girl on the doorstep of one of the townhouses. He could only see her from behind, but she had a small frame, a suitcase at her side, and a head of unmistakably wild curls.

His jerk reaction was to turn around and start quickly off in the opposite direction. But after only a few steps he stopped himself. What was he doing? It couldn't be Elizabeth. She was on another planet, half a galaxy away. And he was imaging things. He was definitely turning into a crazy person.

He turned back around but the girl was gone, disappeared inside the house. He figured it was high time to return to work, and called a cab.

* * *

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you," Elizabeth said, as she collapsed onto Char's living room couch.

Char laughed. He sat down beside her and leaned back into the couch as if exhausted. And indeed, the past few months seemed to have exhausted him. He said, "Actually, I think I have exactly an idea."

Char wasn't working these days, not because he couldn't find work, but because he still hadn't given up hope in the far chance that he would find a way back on to Maia for their last year on the planet. Elizabeth knew that it bothered him more than he would admit to be stuck on Earth. Char wasn't one for being stuck. He was one for adventure. And she knew it also gave him considerable anxiety to have left her and Janie alone on the planet now that it had become a front for the war. Anxiety and guilt, even though he hadn't left by choice.

She surveyed the room, meticulous clean. Not exactly Char's style. "So….where's Collins?" She asked, being sure to keep my tone completely neutral. Still, Char didn't buy it.

"He has a job unlike the rest of us slobs. But yes, you will probably have to pretend to be nice at some point," he said. He was probably mostly joking, but there were also some underlying issues. They'd argued about Collins before. Since then, she'd remained as silent as possible about the subject. It seemed the safest bet.

So Elizabeth said, "Hey, I know as well as anyone that it's thanks to him we even have a shot with the President."

"So you're saying you'll do some really good pretending?"

In response, she throw my hands up in surrender. Char laughed. "Good call," he said. "We won't have that fight. Let's try to get a hold a Janie."

Janie answered the satellite call almost immediately. It was a relief for Elizabeth to see both Janie and the station behind Janie looking about the same as she'd left them a week ago. Janie's smile was wide as she saw both Char and Elizabeth the screen. "I have to say," she said, "the pair of you are a sight for sore eyes."

"How are things on your end?" Elizabeth asked, curling her feet underneath her body on the couch.

"Quiet," Janie said. "How about yours?"

"Freezing cold. I miss you."

Janie laughed. "Aren't we a pair?"

"When we got off Maia in a year, we'll have to buy cats. Then my mom will officially wash her hands of us."

Char rolled his eyes. "You two are making me depressed. Can we stop with the spinsters act and talk about the issues at hand?"

So they did. Maia, the war, Elizabeth's meeting with the President the next day and whether she was ready for it. They'd done their best about talking points, and strategy. But really, how much did Char and Janie and Elizabeth know about that world? Elizabeth found herself wishing for someone like Chris Bingley to tell her exactly how to act and what to say. When they get off the satellite with Janie, she said as much to Char.

He laughed. "Oh please, woman. You never do anything anyone tells you to."

Elizabeth thoughtfully played with the hem of one of her sleeves. "Well," she replied, "maybe that's what gets me into trouble."

She went to bed early. Tomorrow was bound to be a long day.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: Super excited for all the reviews last chapter. Please keep reviewing and telling me what you think! If you're reading I'd love to hear from you.**

**Next chapter comes the Darcy-Elizabeth reunion!**


	15. Part II, Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

No one was allowed to drive themselves into the Capitol Home who did not have special clearance. The clearance was given to a select few—very high or trusted officials and a fleet of drivers who underwent more rigorous background checks that perhaps anyone else in the galaxy. Even lower-level staffers could not drive themselves into the capitol. They were collected by large busses and shuttled in on a daily basis.

Elizabeth was picked up by a driver at ten o'clock on the dot. Char gave her a hug and a "good luck" at the door of the car before she climbed inside.

She had awoken with the faint headache of a person who had recently traveled through hyperspace, but painkillers had sufficed enough for her to feel ready for the day ahead of her. But sitting alone in the back seat of the car—probably, she realized, an armored vehicle—things suddenly seemed very serious. She was, after all, on her way to see the President. This was their last chance.

The Capitol Home was a sprawling ten acres of land contained within a dome-like shield. The dome served two purposes. Shield it was, but it was more than that. It acted as a one-way mirror—from inside of it you could see out, but from the outside you could not see into the dome, making it impossible for any terrorists to know where exactly on the ten acres of land the Capitol Home stood. In fact, the only people who knew were those who made their daily transit inside.

There was only one way inside, a gate directly at the eastern-most point. They went through it, and immediately Elizabeth's windows blackened. She wasn't surprised. They reached the Capitol Home some minutes later. She wondered if the route had been straight or if they had circled the building several times to further confuse potential terrorists.

Once inside, she went through a series of increasingly invasive security checks until she was at last shuffled into a waiting area. After all the protocols and checks, Elizabeth was feeling more nervous than ever. The atmosphere was draining—colder that the weather outside. Colder than Will Darcy had been upon first meeting. She suddenly felt like she understood his manner a little bit better. You needed that aloofness, working in a place like this.

She did not get the much-needed moment to collect herself. No sooner had she sat down than a man came to collect her. He was professional but unfriendly, introducing himself as Sanders then saying, "I'll take you to the President now."

She obediently followed him down another hall, into an area teeming with desks and offices and business. It was the most noise she'd heard in the Capitol Home thus far, and it comforted her. Sanders led her to the farthest door, made of thick metal, and pressed a button on the intercom outside.

"I have Dr. Bennett," he said into it.

Elizabeth didn't hear a reply, but the door—apparently an automatic one—opened. She looked at Sanders. He nodded, and she stepped inside the President's office. The door closed behind her.

In front of Elizabeth, Catherine de Bourgh sat behind an imposing desk. The office was a windowless room, rather large, but felt much smaller than it actually was.

"Dr. Elizabeth Bennett," President de Bourgh said. Elizabeth nearly shivered. Though the President was sitting and Elizabeth stood, still Catherine de Bourgh seemed to look down at her. Elizabeth took a few steps forward then stopped, unsure what to do. The President had not risen to shake her hand. Instead, she scrutinized her for a few uncomfortable moments before finally gesturing for Elizabeth to sit down.

"Thank you so much for your time," Elizabeth began, but was cut short by an imperious wave of Catherine de Bourgh's hand. Elizabeth felt her mouth clamp shut.

The President said, "I'm told you and your friends have some concerns about the present situation in the Outer Colonies."

It did not escape Elizabeth that Catherine de Bourgh chose the word _friends_ instead of _colleagues_ to describe them, trivializing them with a simple choice of noun. Still, she plowed forward, though her hope for any successful outcome was already waning.

"We do," she began. "The situation—"

Again she was cut off. "You have, what, about a year left on your contract to the Maia project?"

Confused by the line of questioning, Elizabeth answered with a simple nod. The President continued, "And are you here because you want out of that contract?"

Elizabeth frowned. The thought had never crossed anyone's mind. "No," she said.

President de Bourgh nodded. "Still, you have a year at most left in the Outer Colonies?"

She paused and waited for an acknowledgement. Again Elizabeth nodded.

"So tell me, Dr. Bennett, why should I place your concerns at a higher level of consideration than say, the miners on New Bisbee who will be spending the rest of their lives in the Outer colonies as opposed to merely the next twelve months?"

Elizabeth had no answer. The only thing she could think of to say was, _because if you don't I will die on Maia before a year is over. _But surely this was not a thing to say to a president. Perhaps she and Janie should've been trying instead to get out of their contracts. Perhaps six years had gone to waste, and it was time to bail, time to accept that they were down to their last resort.

"You make a very good point," Elizabeth conceded, feeling the weight of defeat already beginning to press down on her.

Catherine de Bourgh gave another curt nod. "We're satisfied with the current state of affairs in the outer colonies, and I can assure you we are quite aware of exactly what they are. Still, your concern is noted. And I appreciate you making the trip."

Thus, having said little more than on full sentence, Elizabeth was being dismissed. She stood in acknowledgement of it and said again, "Thank you for your time, Mrs. President."

"You're welcome," President de Bourgh said, as if she had been a gracious host. Then she pressed a button on her desk and said, "Sanders, you can show Dr. Bennett out." She pressed another button to open the door.

Elizabeth walked out without another word. She followed Sanders through the work hall until he paused to talk to a young, fresh-faced girl behind one of the desks. She stopped in her tracks beside him.

While Sanders talked and the girl giggled, Elizabeth rallied herself. Yes, the meeting with Catherine de Bourgh had been a failure, but it was a long shot anyway. And how many chances did one get to see the inner workings of the Capitol Home? She surveyed the area around her with some curiosity, eyes panning the room until they fell on something she hadn't expected. Will Darcy. Staring directly at her.

She turned immediately away, not just diverting her eyes but adjusting her whole body so that she was no longer facing him. There was a dull pounding in her head. _Painkillers wearing off_, she told herself, but she knew it was more than that.

Why hadn't she anticipated this moment? Why hadn't she known that this would happen? She knew Darcy had seen her, and her fight or flight reflex kicked in. She wanted to make a bolt for it, but she didn't know which way to head through the maze of hallways and she was sure anyway that she would get body-slammed by some security personnel if she took off like a lunatic.

At last Sanders finished his conversation and they were walking again. Relief flooded Elizabeth's body. She shook her hands slightly to relieve the nervous tension inside of her and breathed deeply. She'd escaped.

She didn't hear the footsteps behind them. The first thing she heard was his voice.

"Hey Sanders, I'll take her from here," Will Darcy said.

Sanders obeyed his superior without question. In fact, he seemed more than happy to leave her in Darcy's hands, offering a cheerful, "Sure thing," before heading back down the hallway.

They were alone. Elizabeth knew she had to look at him, but it still took her a second to muster the courage. When she finally did, she was greeted with the familiar, unreadable visage. His hair was a little shorter. He looked very presidential here, in his natural setting.

"Hi," he said, breaking the silence.

"Hi." She volleyed the greeting back to him apprehensively. It was impossible to judge his feelings about her being there by only one word, but she couldn't imagine them being positive.

An expression of wonder and confusion crossed his face. He asked, "What are you doing here?" But the inquiry lacked the accusatory tone she'd expected. He was curious, mystified, but not yet incensed.

There was nothing to do but tell him the truth, though she feared the result. "I had a meeting with the President," she admitted. She realized how that would look to him—like an attempt to undermine him, to go over his head. He had every right to be angry with her. Every right. She began to stumble into an apology. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go above your head—"

She was surprised by his laugh, and stopped the explanation short. He had begun walking and she fell in beside him, glad for the excuse not to look directly at him anymore. His manner confused her. Five months ago, they had parted enemies.

Darcy said, "Elizabeth, there's no need to apologize. Lord knows, the mess I left you with out there, you had every right to try to circumnavigate me." He paused, then added, "I can guess how that meeting went, though."

"Horribly," she admitted. She was surprised to hear herself saying it to Will Darcy, but his manner invited candor. This was the first bit of friendliness she'd gotten in the Capitol Home. From him—the man she'd called a liar and bully. Yet she seemed on the verge of gaining him as an ally.

"Don't take it personally," He said. "She's been stonewalling even me about the whole Maia issue for at least two months."

With that, he surprised her again. So she wasn't on the verge of gaining an ally; she already had one. Darcy had taken up her cause in her absence. She chanced a sideways glance at him. He was looking forward, brows knit in a thoughtful expression.

"How long are you here for?" He asked.

"A week," she said.

"On the planet or in the city?"

"Both. I'm staying with Char."

His eyebrows shot up at the mention of Char. "Char came too?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Char's been here."

He seemed confused about Char—apparently he'd never know about Char being pulled of the planet—but he tabled those questions for now. They had reached the end of the hallway. Ahead of her was an elevator.

Stopping, he turned his body to face her and said with a hurried voice, "Well, I know I have some time free tomorrow. Not sure exactly when, since I don't have my human calendar with me at the moment, but if you're free, I would love to hear your perspective on the situation. I can't promise you anything. Like I said, the President's like force-field about this right now. But if you can provide me with any kind of ammunition, it could help us both out." He paused, then asked, "What do you think?"

What did she think? She almost couldn't find the words.

"I think," she said at last, "that is a far more generous offer than I deserve from you."

His face relaxed and he shook as his head as if to say, _no it's not_. Out loud he said, "I'll have Chris call you with a time. You said you're staying with Char?"

"Whatever home number you have for Drew Collins, I think you'll find us there," she said, knowing as she said it that she was letting him in on something he didn't already know—Char and Collins.

She watched it dawn on him, the meaning of what she had said. "Good lord," he said, eyebrows raised again.

She laughed. "Tell me about it." She wasn't sure how it had happened so fast, but they had slipped back into friendliness, the Earth-Room friendliness they had had the night before they'd fought.

He pressed the elevator button for her, and it immediately opened. Inside were an operator and the requisite security officer. "This takes you straight down to the garage," Darcy explained.

"Alright," she said, stepping inside. "Until tomorrow then."

"I look forward to it," Darcy replied, before the elevator door closed between them.

And the thing was, she could tell he meant it.

* * *

Will stared at the elevator for almost a full minute after it had closed with Elizabeth inside. Then he realized he was staring at a closed elevator, grinning like a fool, and if he didn't do something to change that there would be rumors. If not about Elizabeth, than about his sanity.

He turned around, still smiling, and headed back down the hall and to Chris's office. Chris was on the phone. Will sat down in an empty chair to wait. He picked a paperweight from Chris's desk and examined it to pass the time. Finally Chris hung up the phone, and looked across his desk at his friend.

"You seem…cheerful," Chris said, almost suspiciously.

Will put the paperweight down. "I need you to find me some time on the schedule tomorrow."

Chris nodded slowly. He looked like he wanted to ask something but was hesitant. And then he just asked. "Anne de Bourgh?"

Will shook his head. How quickly things could change. To think, only yesterday he had been considering that a valid option. He almost wanted to laugh. Instead he told Chris, "Elizabeth Bennett."

"Wow," Chris said, surprised. "Didn't see that one coming."

And then Will did laugh. "Yeah," he said. "Me neither."

* * *

Char, of course, wanted the full rundown the minute she got back, battering her with a series of questions about the President, the meeting, and whether or not he was going to get to go back with her to Maia. She had to tell him that they'd never gotten that far, that the meeting with Catherine de Bourgh had in fact gotten nowhere. She described in detail her day—the security checks, the coldness of the Capitol Home, President de Bourgh's distain. She finished telling him about their meeting and then hesitated.

Char took the hesitation for the end of the story. He sighed. "Well I guess that's that," he said.

Elizabeth shook her head. "It's not. I ran into Will Darcy on my way out. He wants to meet with me tomorrow. I think…I think he wants to help us."

They were sitting on the couch side by side again. She had averted her gaze from Char when she started talking about Darcy. He pinched her arm to get her attention. "Ouch!" she protested, swatting at his hand, but it worked and she was looking at him again.

"Sorry," Char said. "But are we talking about _the _Will Darcy? The one you would not let me even think of approaching for any help?"

"One and the same," she said ruefully, with a shrug. "I may have misjudged the man. Repeatedly. For the past six months."

Char shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know what goes on with you two. First you hate each other. Then you seem civil. Then you come back to the station at a suspiciously late hour and are all, Darcy is full of secrets. Then you hate each other again. Now he wants to help. I can't keep up."

She could barely keep up herself. "George told me some things about—" but she stopped. Suddenly it seemed completely ridiculous that she had ever even considered believing George's story about himself and Darcy. Just look at those two. Who was the more believable of the pair?

She laughed. "I think George told me a bunch of shit."

Char just shrugged. "Whatever. You do what you need to about your middle-school drama. Just get me back on that planet."

"I don't have middle school drama with anyone," Elizabeth grumbled. "I am forging a professional working relationship."

Her denial speech may have gone on longer, but was cut short by the ring of the phone. "That's probably Chris," Elizabeth said.

And it was. After a minute, Char passed her the phone. "Hey Chris," she said casually. She had always felt comfortable with Chris and still did, despite how things had ended between him and Janie.

"It is you, isn't it?" Chris asked rhetorically, in his slow, amiable tone. "Well, I hope you can help Will sort out this Maia business. He's been on about it for months. No offense, but it's getting old."

She smiled into the phone. "I'm going to do my best."

They discussed when she was free (pretty much the whole day) and when Darcy was free (pretty much never), eventually deciding that a car would pick her up in the afternoon at around three. They chatted for a few more minutes. He asked her about her trip out; they made a few jokes about Earth. He did not ask about Janie, and so she didn't mention her either. Then the hung up, and she had a feeling that she would see him tomorrow.

"Everything's coming up Elizabeth," Char said, as she handed him back the phone.

"We'll see about that tomorrow," she replied. She didn't want to get her hopes up. But of course they were already up, and for more reasons that she was willing to admit.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: Tried to make it a quick update. Review, my lovelies! **


	16. Part II, Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was Chris Bingley himself who came with a car to pick her up the next day. "Have you been demoted or something?" she teased, when she opened Char and Collin's front door to find him on the other side. But truly she was glad to see him. It was a good start to the day.

Chris laughed. "Please, we both know Darce couldn't survive a day without me. I only do the driving when it's people I like. Char here?"

Elizabeth shook her head and told him Char was out somewhere, she wasn't sure where. Chris shook his head as well and said something to the effect that he couldn't believe Char had been there all that time. "And with Collins," he added.

"Nobody can believe that. Even Darcy seemed surprised," Elizabeth admitted. They had been walking to the car, and she paused while they climbed inside. Then she rejoined, "But I can't believe neither of you knew Char was pulled off of Maia. It happened pretty soon after you left."

Char said, "Well, I think the President does her best to keep us out of the Maia-related new these days. Darcy's been on the war path, and she doesn't want to budge about the troops."

Elizabeth tried to ignore the tightening in her chest. She had to remind herself: _He's not doing it for you. This is Will Darcy and his utilitarian ethics we're taking about. He just thinks getting the troops off Maia is the right thing for the Outer Colonies._

Out loud, to change the subject, she noted, "This isn't the way they took me to the Capitol Home yesterday. Is there a secret route?"

Chris shook his head. "We aren't going there. On second thought, Darce and I figured it was best to keep this meeting clandestine for the time being or we might risk incurring further the further wrath of Catherine de Bourgh. The good news is you'll get a peek at the Darcy estate. It's like Disney Land."

She laughed at his archaic expression, it's like Disney Land. He added, "I'm giving rather a bad impression of us, aren't I? Really, we are good civil servants. Nine out of ten times we're right in step with the program."

From there they fell into easy conversation about what each had been doing since the last time they'd met, mostly about what Elizabeth had been doing. But there was an elephant in the car: neither mentioned Janie. Elizabeth wasn't sure if she should or should not, so she decided to take her lead from Chris. She waited for him to ask about Janie if he wanted to. It took ten minutes of mindless small talk before he did.

When he finally asked, he did so with his eyes glued forward on the road ahead. He tried to sound causal. All he said was, "And how's Janie?"

There really wasn't much to say, Elizabeth realized. "She's okay," she said carefully. "Alone at the moment, which is a little troubling."

"At least she's got a full division of troops at her disposable," he said helpfully. "If you trust Wickham to take care of her."

Elizabeth snorted. "Yeah, well that's a pretty big if," she said, with more bitterness than she'd intended. Where had that come from all of the sudden?

Chris glanced at her. He seemed to be considering something. Then he asked, "He told you the Tom Jones story, didn't he?"

"Yes," Elizabeth immediately replied. She had known it in her gut, but she was finally going to get it confirmed by someone that was George Wickham had told her about the past was nothing about the story, one he'd adapted from a book for his own use. She felt relieved. She asked, "You've heard the story, too?"

Chris nodded. "Oh, I was his first audience."

Elizabeth hesitated, but then she just asked. She couldn't go on not knowing. "What really happened between them? Darcy and Wickham?"

Chris sighed and leaned back in the driver's seat. "Well, part of George's version is true. I mean, I don't know exactly what version he told you. I'm sure the it's gotten more sophisticated since I heard it from him. They did grow up together, like brothers, and Will's dad split them up around high school. But that whole part about George does about Darce being jealous because the old man liked Wickham better is utter rubbish. It was William Darcy Senior who decided Wickham was a bad influence and tossed him out of the house. Darce always stood up for him."

"What about Darcy's sister?" Elizabeth asked.

Chris nodded slowly. She could tell from his serious expression that whatever had happened with Giana and George was a serious subject. She wasn't sure he would tell her. But he did.

"Two years ago when Darce tracked George down, he came back playing the part of the lost sheep returned to the fold. Everyone was fooled. I mean, I think Darce had wanted his brother back so bad for so long, George didn't even have to try hard. But then one day Darce wakes up, and George has run off with Giana. She was fifteen. Darce didn't know where they were for three months. He didn't tell anyone either, not even me. He said she'd gone to some fancy off-planet piano school. Then Wickham finally contacted him and basically traded him Giana back for the big promotion to general."

"Jesus," Elizabeth said.

Chris nodded. "Yeah. It was bad. I was off-planet quite a bit during this time and happened to run into George only about a week after it all had gone down. I remember I asked him something like, how are you doing? And he just spilled me that whole ridiculous story, which I later learned is pretty much straight out of that book he and Darce both like, _Tom Jones_."

"You didn't believe him," Elizabeth said, knowing that this would be true. She felt guilty that she had believed George. That she had even considered it.

"I basically told him he was full of shit," Chris said. "Then I went back to Earth to see what was really going on and it was a mess. Giana cried for about a month straight. Darce finally told me what had happened. I think his whole faith in humanity was shaken, not to sound melodramatic. But it was pretty rough on him."

"Is he going to be mad that you told me all this?" Elizabeth asked.

Chris just shrugged. "It's my opinion that he should've told you himself, especially if he knew George Tom-Jones-ed you. But Darce…sometimes he's just too proud to defend himself. I think he thinks he shouldn't have to."

A thoughtful silence fell between them until Chris broke it by asking, "So Janie is really okay?"

And Elizabeth knew for sure he wasn't over her.

* * *

Darcy heard the front door open and looked at his watch for about the millionth time in the past hour. It was fifteen minutes early, but he still expected Chris and Elizabeth. Who else would it be? He stood and quickly made his way towards the front entrance, but found his sister there instead.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned, although he was pretty well sure he knew what Giana was doing home. Giana had her suspicions, and he couldn't blame her after the way he'd gone on about Elizabeth a few weeks prior. Possibly he shouldn't have told her about the meeting today. The last thing he needed was his kid sister playing matchmaker with a girl who might still hate him outright and who might also be, at this point, in love with (or in _something _with, at least) George.

Sure enough, Giana said, "What do you think I'm doing here? I want to meet her. The bad news is Caroline is right behind me."

This was bad news. "Giana," he groaned.

"Sorry, but we were having lunch today and then I couldn't get rid of her. I tried everything."

Then the door opened, and Caroline came through it. There was nothing to be done now. He would just have to make the best of it. Although he had been hoping to actually make a good impression on Elizabeth this time around, and he was pretty certain Caroline was only going to make those efforts harder.

"Afternoon off before the concert?" Caroline said.

Caroline was, as always, dressed like a masterpiece, but what caught his attention in her whole ensemble were the shoes. They looked very uncomfortable and very weather-inappropriate. The concert she was talking about was Giana's concert, at eight o'clock that evening. It had become the event of events on Earth, and yet he'd noticed his sister wasn't nervous at all. But then she could play the piano like few people still could.

Will decided the best way to handle this situation was to try to get rid of them both, instead of singling Caroline out. "No, I'm working actually. I have a meeting," he said. "A horribly boring meeting. You'd both better get out of here while you can."

Giana gave him a look as if to say, _nice try_. She had already taken off her coat and slung it on top of a table by the door. "I have to practice," she said practically, "and where am I going to find a better piano?"

Caroline too had removed her coat at this point, to review a dress underneath even more weather-inappropriate than her shoes. She said, "Why are you taking meetings here? Who is it?"

Giana was heading in the direction of her piano and Caroline was walking along with her, although looking back at him as he followed them. There was no point in lying. "Dr. Bennett," he said. He could tell by the look of surprise that crossed Caroline's face that no one had yet informed her of Elizabeth Bennett's reappearance. But Caroline covered the surprise up quickly with a laugh.

"Another Dr. Bennet? How unlikely," she said cheerfully.

"Sorry, no," Will said. "The same one."

And he heard the front door open again.

Giana was the quickest turned around and headed back towards the entrance. Will could do nothing but follow her, Caroline by his side, and wonder how the situation had suddenly gone so out of his control. He rounded the corner and there they were, Chris and Elizabeth Bennett. She was wearing weather-appropriate boots.

"Oh look, the whole family's here," Chris said.

Giana took the situation by the reigns. "Caroline and I are just on our way back out. I forgot Will had a meeting," she said. The child was full of lies. When had that happened? But she was all smiles for Elizabeth, and thrust a hand towards her. "Hi, I'm Giana. Will's baby sister. I've heard tons about you."

Elizabeth laughed as she shook Giana's hand, casting a quick look at him. "That's ominous," she said to Giana. "I can't imagine it's been all good."

"Nonsense. Have they invited you to my concert yet?"

"No. They have not."

"How rude," Giana said gaily. "You must come. Eight o'clock. These fellows can show you the way."

Will had yet to say a word, but there hadn't been an opening. And now Elizabeth was looking at him again, questioningly. He said in all sincerity, "Of course, you really must come."

And Elizabeth smiled, but more to Giana than him. She said, "I would love to come."

"Fantastic. Then I'll get to know you then," Giana said. She was putting her coat back on. Will was thinking about how much he loved his sister. She was crafty, pulling of a stunt like this. And now he had a whole night with Elizabeth.

But then Caroline said, "Where is she going to sit?" Leave it to Caroline to insert something rude, just when things were going so well.

"With us, obviously," Will said, although he had no idea if that was what his sister intended.

"I don't want to be an inconvenience—" Elizabeth began.

"You're not," Giana, in a tone that left no room for argument. "Casey Larabee isn't coming. We have an extra place at our table. Come on, Chris, buy me and your sister something to eat."

Caroline at least new well enough not to protest that she and Giana had just come from eating. Besides, Giana was practically pulling her out the door. Chris gave an amiable shrug. "I guess I'll see you two later," he said, and followed the girls out. The door shut behind them. Will was alone with Elizabeth.

For some reason, he began immediately apologizing. "Sorry for the chaos. They just suddenly appeared out of no where. I obviously have no control over my household."

"I like your sister," Elizabeth said. "She seems intrepid."

Will laughed, as he began walking her back towards his office. "That she is," Will said. "Now, doubtless the reliable Christian has explained to you the covert nature of this meeting and the reasons for that."

Elizabeth nodded. Her face was serious except for her eyes, which were aglow with humor. "Apparently you two are quite the renegades."

Were they flirting? He couldn't tell. "It's a new role I'm trying on," he said. They'd reached his office. He didn't like the idea of a desk in between them, so instead of sitting on the far side of his desk, he pulled his chair around to her side. She seemed neither surprised nor disturbed by the gesture.

As he sat down she said, "Thank you for the dune buggy."

"Oh," he said. He had almost forgotten leaving it—half-heartedly, bitterly, but with the tiniest ounce of hope—the day he had gone from Maia. "Your welcome. What was I going to do with it?"

Instead of taking the lighthearted comment at face value, Elizabeth was looking at him thoughtfully. She made him nervous when she did that. Come to think of it, she might have been the only person in the universe who could make him nervous at all, other than George. She said, "I have no idea why you're suddenly on my side."

Will considered the implied question. He couldn't very well answer, _because I'm in love with you_. So he said, "Because it's the right side to be on."

She accepted the answer. They got down to business.

* * *

An hour passed quickly and easily between them. Darcy was an active listener. He was truly concerned about her concerns and wanted to help. And she was sure to make it clear to him that she was very much over the charms of George Wickham, as a military presence on her planet and as a person in general.

Darcy seemed to relax after she made that admission, and reciprocated by telling her something he had told know one yet: he had had some preliminary talks with some Ceres people and with New Bisbee. There was a chance—albeit not much of one without the President's backing—that by reducing the number of troops and retreating them back a planet, Ceres would be willing to declare The Outer Colonies neutral territory again.

It seemed almost too soon when Chris arrived again to collect her, although she realized, looking at her watch, that over two hours had gone by.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the long delay. Grad school destroys lives. And sorry this wasn't as Darcy-Elizabeth a chapter as I intended. I promise the next one will be! And that it will be quicker!**


	17. Part II, Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"But what am I going to wear?" Elizabeth asked. She shook her head, observing the insufficiencies of the wardrobe she had brought with her from Maia. She had spread her clothing out on the bed in Collins's guest room. There was really nothing that would do for the kind of swank evening she seemed to be in for.

Char was slouched in his chair, watching her frustration with a bemused expression. He said, "That is an interesting question. What do you where on a date with the galaxy's most eligible bachelor?"

She scowled at him. "Will Darcy didn't even ask me to go. His sister did."

"Let's not quibble about the details."

"You're not helping." She only had about four hours to be ready. Intellectually, she knew that this was a lot of time. But it didn't feel like a lot of time. The task seemed daunting. For starters, she literally had nothing to wear.

"Sorry," Char said. "But I'm not that kind of gay person. You know, the kind who could take you shopping and give you relevant opinions on dresses."

Frustrated, Elizabeth scooped the clothing up in her arms and then, without ceremony, dropped the whole pile onto the floor. She gingerly stepped over it and climbed onto the bed where the clothing had previously been residing. She lay back sighed. "I know what I need to do," she said. "I just don't know if I have the strength."

About forty-five minutes later, she was sitting on a different bed, the bed in Lydia's room.

"Here," Lydia said, as she handed Elizabeth a bottle of red nail polish. "At least make yourself useful and do something about your nails."

Elizabeth took the nail polish, but instead of making herself useful she stared dumbly at it. No. She couldn't do it. She couldn't go that far down the road of making an effort. "I think I'm going to pass on the nail polish," she said aloud.

Lydia was standing in front of her closet now, looking through dresses to find something appropriate for Elizabeth. Lydia shrugged. "Do what you like," she said, "I mean, you're going to be the only person there with year-old sand caked under her nails. But if you want to spend all night feeling self-conscious about your hands…"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes but held her nails out in front of her. There wasn't really year-old sand under them. They were fine. She set the nail polish down on Lydia's bedside table and waiting until Lydia returned from her closet holding three dress options. She eyed them skeptically, but Lydia anticipated her and said, "No, you can't veto any until you've tried them on. It's impossible to tell how they'll be on you from the hanger. Come on."

With a sigh, Elizabeth obeyed. As she changed into the first dress, her sister said, "Don't think this means I'm not mad at you anymore because I still am."

"Lydia, come on," Elizabeth said. She had pulled the first dress over her head and now smoothed it down. It was black and plain, and fit her well enough considering the fact that Lydia was quite a bit taller than her. It was okay.

"Come on what," Lydia replied. "Everyone around here thinks they can just make decisions for me. Like, everybody thinks they need to think for me. I'm not a baby anymore."

"Well sometimes you don't see to do much thinking for yourself," Elizabeth said, still scrutinizing her appearance in the mirror in front of her. "It's a war zone, Lydia. Did you really expect me to let you keep hanging out in a war zone?"

"That's so hypocritical. You're going back."

"It's my job. I'm contracted to go back. This is good enough right?" Elizabeth turned around to face her sister. She was met with a fierce scowl, which she guessed had little to do with the dress.

"No," little said. "Try this one." She handed Elizabeth a second dress, this one navy and looking a bit more complicated than the black dress Elizabeth currently had on. But Lydia was already angry enough with her, so Elizabeth took the dress without complaint and began pulling the black one back over her head.

While her head was still inside the dress she heard Lydia ask, "Did anything ever happen between you and George? "

"God no," Elizabeth said. She had wrestled free from the dress. "He was cute for about two seconds, but cute only goes so far. It wore thin fast."

"Maybe you misunderstood him," Lydia suggested.

Elizabeth shook her head. She wondered why Lydia was on about Wickham all of the sudden, and all she could think was that it was a good thing she had gotten Lydia off the planet when she had. She said, "I didn't misunderstand him. He's all act."

The blue dress was even harder to struggle into, but once she'd gotten into it the results were worth the effort. The blue was a good color. It hit her in the right places. It managed to make her look taller. Even Lydia seemed impressed and said, "Well, I guess we don't have to try on the third." She went back to her closet with the other two dressed to hang them back up. She added, "So you never liked George?"

"Lydia, come on," Elizabeth said exasperatedly.

"Oh my God, it's just a question."

And probably the quickest way to get her off the topic was just to answer it. "No," Elizabeth said. "No I did not every like George." Whether that was true or not, it was true enough now. All she could think of was the truth about him, what Chris had told her earlier that day. She thought about telling Lydia. She was afraid that Lydia might have had a bit of a crush (she wondered how she hadn't noticed it on Maia). But it seemed not to matter now. Lydia was safely half a galaxy away from Wickham. There was no need to go airing Will Darcy's dirty laundry.

Lydia seemed pacified by her answer, enough to drop the subject. "Okay," she said. "Let's fix your hair and makeup."

It was a tiresome process, but the results spoke for themselves. Or so Char said, when she returned to the city. "And you're still going to go try to tell me you're not trying to impress anyone?" he asked her. Then he added to his boyfriend, who was sitting on the couch in front of a stack of papers, "Doesn't she look amazing?"

"Mmm, amazing," Collins muttered without so much as looking up. Since she had been staying with him, he had ignored or been downright rude to her. Elizabeth took no offense. Frankly, she his rudeness far preferable to her previous disturbing attentions.

"I'm just trying not to embarrass myself," Elizabeth said to Char, who rolled his eyes. But it was an honest enough statement. She felt incredibly self-conscious. She almost wished she could call the whole evening off. But it was too late for those kinds of regrets. Someone was knocking at the door.

Again, it was Chris.

"I know, I know," he said by way of greeting. "You're disappointed it's me. But Darce and I flipped a coin and he lost, so I got to come get you and he has to take care of the sisters."

"I'm never disappointed to see you," Elizabeth said.

But she was disappointed, just this once. On the other hand, it did give her opportunity for some feedback before she made her society debut. She said, "So be honest with me. Am I going to fit in at this shindig? Because Lydia was sure my naked nails would mark me as a social pariah." She held her fingernails out for him to inspect.

Chris laughed heartily and assured her that she looked magnificent. "And I don't use the word lightly," he added with a grin.

He was so sweet, and it was so sad he wasn't still dating her best friend. But that was life for you. Jane, who deserved good things, was alone on Maia. And Elizabeth, who probably didn't, was off to dinner and a concert with Will Darcy.

Gianna, of course, wasn't nervous at all. She was wandering around the banquet hall, talking to everyone who arrived and generally being charming and loved by all. It was typical Gianna. Will couldn't help but smile as he watched his sister and who she had turned out to be—despite Wickham's efforts to the contrary.

On the other hand, Gianna had abandoned him at a table with Caroline among others, who was in a particularly snide mood tonight. Then Anne showed up, and he realized how awkward the evening might end up. It had always been bad enough when he had to deal with both Caroline and Anne at once. Add Elizabeth into the mix, and the potential for disaster was far too great. Thank God the President wasn't coming. Thank God Chris was.

When Elizabeth and Chris did arrive, it was Caroline who spotted them first. She sighed heavily and slammed her glass down on the table hard enough that some of the liquid swashed out of it. "If it isn't our little scientist, all dressed up for the ball," she muttered.

And Will looked.

And he saw her.

And good lord, what was she trying to do to him? Wearing that dress?

Caroline said, "Well I guess at least she tried. Although I'm sure that dress is from the clearance racks of two centuries ago."

Will didn't acknowledge her. Instead, he stood up and began making his way across the room towards Elizabeth and Chris. In a moment, Caroline was tailing after him. He didn't care. He couldn't be bothered with her right now. Elizabeth turned and saw him coming and smiled. Her curly hair was pulled up, except for a few stray strands around her face, leaving her neck bare. He had never noticed her neck before. It was a beautiful neck.

"Oh Darce, perfect timing," Chris said as Will and Caroline reached the pair. "I'm about to take a call."

Chris was always taking calls at inopportune times, but since this call might very well have something to do with Maia and the Ceres war, Will wasn't going to give him a hard time about it just now. He simply rolled his eyes with good humor and said, "Of course you are." And then he let Chris wander off to take his call.

In the meantime, Caroline had found a lull in conversation into which she inserted her particular brand of rudeness. "Elizabeth," she cooed in an overly sweet tone, "I hardly recognized you out of your cargo pants."

But Elizabeth didn't react. "I don't blame you. I hardly recognize myself. This is very grand, isn't it?"

"A bit above your pay grade, yes," said Caroline.

"Caroline," Will said, exasperated.

But again Elizabeth merely murmured, "Mmmhmm."

Annoyed by the lack of response to her insults, Caroline turned on her heals and stormed back to the table, where Will knew they would have to join her and her fury shortly. But for now, he took advantage of the moment alone with Elizabeth to once again apologize for Caroline's behavior.

Elizabeth laughed. "Oh, Caroline. She's harmless really. What can she do if I don't react to her?"

Will shoved his hands into his pockets as they began to slowly make their way across the room, back to the table where Caroline was sitting and pretending not to be interested in them. He replied, "I don't know about harmless. I mean, she stalks me."

Again, Elizabeth laughed. It was a good night, he could tell. It was like the Earth Room. "At any rate, I meant what I said about this being very grand. Am I going to be sitting with anymore famous?" she said.

"Well," he considered, "me. And Anne de Bourgh."

Anne de Bourgh. After meeting the Catherine de Bourgh, Elizabeth had developed an idea of what the president's daughter would be. She had pictured her as a shrewder, more powerful, more tactful Caroline—a woman with ambitions and the means with which to get what she wanted. And one of those things, if you believe anything the media told you, was William Darcy.

But that was not the Anne de Bourgh sitting on Darcy's other side at the table. Real Anne was reserved and deferential, and one-hundred times more terrifying than imaginary Anne had been. Because Elizabeth realized that Anne de Bourgh was the perfect political wife. She was the type of woman who could gracefully preside of charity benefits or visit struggling planets with aid relief teams and quietly establish herself as beloved by all. She'd been born and raised for it.

It was making Elizabeth depressed, and making her feel stupid for putting any effort into her appearance tonight.

She was sitting next to Darcy, and on her other side was his bright, charming sister. During the dinner part of the evening, conversation with Gianna helped pull her out of the Anne-related funk. Gianna was smart and conversational and knew a surprising lot about what was going on Maia.

"I looked you up on the internet," Gianna admitted. "Plus Will's told me a lot."

"Oh God," Elizabeth shook her head with a smile. "I don't even want to know what Darcy told you about me. I was basically rude to him the whole time he was on my planet."

"Not the whole time," Darcy said from her other side, although he had not up till now been a part of their conversation.

Elizabeth had a flashback to this kiss in the Earth Room and wondered what exactly he had told Gianna. "Most of it," she said.

"That I'll agree with," he said, straight-faced. "But it was refreshing. And, for the most part, well deserved."

Gianna leaned forward to look around Elizabeth at her brother. "Why, we're you being presidential?" She turned back to Elizabeth and said, "Sometime he gets very…" Trailing off, she mimed buttoning her collar and straightening a tie with her chin pointed up.

"Adorable," Darcy said, with a mixture of annoyance and affection. "Aren't you supposed to be playing the piano or something?"

Gianna stood and walked around the table to lean down and kiss her brother on the cheek before making her way to the stage.

"She's grown up so much in the past two years," Anne de Bourgh said to Darcy, as they all watch Gianna.

Darcy smiled. "She has," he said.

And there it was again. Looking at Anne and Darcy, Elizabeth knew what was supposed to be. Surely, there was no fighting it.

Gianna was amazing, of course. But whether it made him a bad brother or not, after the concert was over he had concerns more pressing then congratulating his sister. So instead of joining the flock of admirers around his sister, he extracted a promise from Chris to keep an eye on her and get her home, then he managed to get Elizabeth away from the crowd and before he knew it he was walking out the door with her.

"You've abandoned your sister," she said. But her tone had little concern and she was allowing herself to be very easily led away. He took both as encouraging signs.

"I've left her surrounded by her many admirers." Elizabeth arched an eyebrow and he added, "Chris will look after her."

The statement elicited enough interest from Elizabeth that she glanced back over her shoulder, although she could see neither Chris nor Gianna who were both still inside.

"Will he?" she asked, turning back around and putting the question to him with perfect clarity of meaning. She wanted to know what exactly _looking after_ meant. Or specifically, what kind of relationship between Chris and Gianna the looking after implied.

Will threw his hands up and began to protest his innocence. "Why do people keep jumping to the conclusion that I'm trying to pair up Gianna and Chris? He's much, much too old for her."

Her eyes were glittering with mischief as she looked up at him while they walked. She said, "So the pair of you are more like her two gay dads."

Will managed to retain a serious and non-reactionary expression as he nodded and replied, "Yes. Yes, we are."

Elizabeth laughed delightedly, and he had the almost irresistible urge to touch her—her arm or the small of her back. He had to consciously restrain himself. He focused hard on what she was saying, trying not to think about the last time he had touched her, in the Earth Room. It was so long ago. Had she really kissed him back, or was that something he had just imagined?

Elizabeth was saying, "Honestly I was expecting more of a reaction than that." She paused then continued more seriously, "Gianna's fantastic though, really. Especially considering everything she's already been through."

That was pretty much what Will thought about his sister all the time, so he was about to agree with her as a reflex. Then it hit him exactly what she had just said. He looked down at her. Her eyes was averted now, but he detected a hint of apprehension in her expression, as if maybe it had just hit her also exactly what she had said.

"Everything she's already been through?" he repeated back to her, tacking on a question mark.

Elizabeth made no attempt to cover, but then she had always been direct. "Chris told me about George," she said. "Don't be mad at him. He had good intentions."

"Yes, I'm pretty sure Chris has never done anything in his life without good intentions," Will said. And he found that he wasn't mad at Chris anyway. On the contrary, he was glad she knew the truth about George and he was glad he didn't have to tell her the story himself. He hated telling that story.

To Elizabeth, he continued, "Five months ago, I was torn about whether I should tell you or not. I wasn't entirely comfortable leaving him out there basically in control of things with nobody having any idea what they were dealing with. At the same time, I didn't want it to seem like I was just throwing dirt around. And I don't know. I hadn't seen him since them. There's always this hope at the back of my mind, maybe he's different now."

He stopped there, having already said more than he intended and not wanted to sink them both any further into his morose feelings about George. He added, "Anyway, the point is I'm not mad at Chris. It's a relief that you know. I probably should have told you a long time ago."

She shook her head. "What, in between me yelling insults at you? I completely understand you not telling me. You probably had the impression I wouldn't believe you anyway." She hesitated and looked up at him almost shyly. She said, "But I'm really glad I ran into you again."

Time could've stopped then. Will Darcy was happy.

**A/N: Thrilled to have so many reviewers still with me after such a long delay! Bear with me through the next month while grad school finishes up. I promise updates, but they might be a little slower like this. Thanks for all your kind reviews, and please keep reviewing!**


	18. Part II, Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

President de Bourgh motioned for Will to close door behind him as he entered her office. He did so with precision, then made his way slowly across the room to sit down in front of her desk. The slow walk was to give himself time to get his head on straight. He had, thus far, not had the most productive morning. It was the day after the concert. His mind was elsewhere. But now he used all his concerted effort to bring it back to the present. The President was, as usual, staring him down in her most intimidating manner as he sank onto the stiff chair across from her desk.

"Mrs. President," he said. "What can I do for you?"

Catherine de Bourgh set her arms down on the desk and folded her hands. She still did not answer. He knew it was a tactic to make him nervous, but in reality he just felt bored and wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

And then she finally spoke. "What you've already been trying to do behind my back," she said calmly.

"Sorry?" he asked, feigning innocence, trying not to get his hopes up.

"I know everything that goes on here, Darcy," she said, with an even sterner countenance. "So don't think for a second I was unaware of you and Bingley and your….side project. Fortunately for the two of you, New Bisbee is threatening to strike again, if we do nothing to back the war up from their perimeter. So what I would have called insubordination under any other circumstance, I am going to call foresight in this instance. We have a meeting with the Bisbee union leaders at 9 a.m. tomorrow. Have Bingley put it into your calendar. I expect you to take point."

New Bisbee and their strikes. It was all he could do to keep his elation from showing on his face as he answered. "I will be ready to do that, Mrs. President."

"That's all," she said, and gave him a curt, dismissive wave of her hand. Will stood, and walked respectfully out of the room. Once he was safely on the other side of Catherine de Bourgh's door, he quickened his pace and allowed the smile to begin creeping up. He went straight to find Chris.

Chris was on the phone as Will stepped into his office. Looking up, Chris gave Will the one-second sign with his hand. Will sat down, and Chris said into the phone, "Yes, thank you again, you've been incredibly helpful. Yes, we'll be in touch soon." He hung up the phone.

Both men said at once, "I have news."

Chris laughed and leaned back in his chair. "Go ahead," he said.

"Bisbee's striking again. They don't want the war."

"Dammit, I should've gone first! That was my news," Chris said. Will raised his eyebrows, and Chris added, "Well, I started wondering about that Bisbee ship Elizabeth came out here on, so I did a little investigatory work to find out who else was on it."

"And to think, some people say you're riding my coattails."

"Who says that? Nobody says that!"

Will could no longer suppress his grin. He said, "The meeting is tomorrow morning and we're taking point. This is it."

It also meant they had a lot of work to do before 9 a.m. the following morning. They spent a few hours getting as much preparation done as they could, but what was really needed was a conversation with Ceres. Unfortunately it wasn't day on Ceres until it was night on Earth. They both new they would probably be up all night, and so around lunch time Will suggested they take the afternoon off to rest before the marathon began.

"You're right, we should," Chris agreed. Yet he was looking at Will suspiciously. "However, while you _say_ rest, I have this feeling what you're actually going to do is sneak off and keep working."

"I won't. Scout's honor." Will held his right hand up as he said it, then let if fall back to the table.

"Fine. Well, I'm taking the afternoon off anyway, whatever you choose to do with it." Chris pushed back his chair and stood up. He grabbed his coat from the back of it and pulled it on. He gave Will a last look reservation. "Seriously though, try to get some sleep. Or at least relax."

Will nodded to indicate again that he would and Chris sighed in reply. He said, "See, the only reason I want you to get married is so I can stop parenting you."

"But then what purpose would your life serve?" Will asked. Chris rolled his eyes. And on that note, he left.

Chris had had half a right to be doubtful of Will's intentions, because Will had no intention of sleeping. But he did intend to take the afternoon off. He picked up his phone.

* * *

The phone was ringing. Elizabeth eyed it warily. She was the only person at the Collins' residence, since Collins was at work and Char was out meeting with ecoterrorists or whatever it was exactly that he did with his free time. The question was: to answer or not to answer. After the seventh ring, she picked up and said hello. She admired the persistence of seven rings.

"It's Darcy," said the voice of Darcy. "Would you like to have lunch with me?"

Elizabeth looked down at the half-eaten sandwich in front of her. "Yes, I would," she said, pushing the plate away as if by pushing it away she was hiding the evidence from him.

"Good. So if I come there in about thirty minutes, will that be ok?"

"Perfect," she said. And then: "Wait, by _I _do you mean actually you or do you mean Chris?"

"Ha ha," he said dryly. "But fair enough."

It was, in fact, Darcy himself who arrived at Char's house thirty minutes later. He was looking very cheerful, and explained why as soon as they had both climbed into his car. "I have good news," he said. "New Bisbee is threatening another strike."

"Bisbee strikes have never brought me any good," Elizabeth said. She leaned back in her chair and tried not to stare at Darcy's profile, although she wanted very much to make a study of him. All this time, he still remained a puzzle. She understood him better in relations to George, but she still didn't understand him in relation to herself. She had no grip on what was between them—if anything was left between them or if they were just allies now, on the same side of a battle. So she was glad to be in the car with him, but at the same time she had been nervous. It was both a relief and a disappointment that this seemed to be business.

"Until now," he said. "They're striking to get the war out of the Outer Colonies. And I assure you, they will be convinced that to do so will mean taking the military off of Maia. Isn't it nice? Suddenly everyone wants the same thing."

"It is nice," she agreed. "Although I can't help feeling like my trip to Earth has be pointless. It all would've happened without me."

"I wouldn't say pointless," he said.

She wondered what he meant.

After a pause he continued. "I have to say, it's excellent timing for me as well. The President knows I've been basically trying to undermine her on this one for months. A Bisbee strike finally give me the leverage, instead of her using it to try to blackmail me into—" he stopped abruptly.

Elizabeth had a feeling she knew how that sentence would've ended. "Anne de Bourgh seems really great," she said.

"Does she?" he said evasively. Driving gave him an excuse not to look at her.

"Not the worst life sentence, if you ask me," she said. She knew she was fishing, but she couldn't' stop herself. His reply surprised her because it seemed to veer completely off topic.

"Sometimes when I'm talking to you I feel like I'm talking to Chris." He glanced at her, and noticed her confused expression. He clarified: "What I mean is, I trust you."

She knew that coming from him, the statement meant more than it meant coming from others.

"And I'm not going to marry Anne," he said.

"Oh," she said. And then on impulse added, "Good."

He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I would hate to see you sacrifice your integrity."

"Right," he said. He had parked. They got out of the car.

She expected the tone of conversation to return to business as they sat down to eat, but it did not. It was off the table, had perhaps all along been a ruse to see her. For now he dismissed it—he could only guess outcomes, after all. He would know more after his meeting tomorrow. They began talking about other things.

They talked about how much they both liked Gianna. The warmth Darcy had for his sister was one of his most endearing qualities, a glimpse of what was beneath his business-like exterior. They talked about Char's baffling, yet apparently stable, relationship with Collins. They eventually found themselves talking about her initial dislike for him when he'd arrived on Maia.

"You know what?" she said, trying to recall that far back. Her opinions about him had changed tremendously since then, several times. "I think my primary accusation before you got there was, landed gentry."

"Which I've never denied," he protested.

Their arguments now lacked the sting they'd had in the early days. They weren't even argument really. Just living conversations.

"But you have to admit you have this unaccountable up-from-slavery persona, like people think you're from the gutters or something. Nobody thinks of you as the man with a predestined political inheritance and a million advantages."

"I've worked very hard to overcome that stigma."

It was true. He had, when probably he hadn't needed to. He was Will Darcy, and there were easier ways of getting what he wanted. He could have, for instance, simply married Anne de Bourgh. It said something about him that he wanted to earn things.

"Did you grow up thinking you were going to be president?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I grew up thinking George and I were going to be treasure hunters. That was our plan." He laughed—a sad, nostalgic laugh.

"I'm not sure that would've worked out," she said. "George would've been looking for the best black market price for your finds, and you'd be trying to give them to museums for free."

He smiled. "That sums us up pretty well."

Dwelling on Wickham too long invariable made her feel guilty. She changed the subject. "You know, all this talk about landed gentry…I can't believe I was at the famous Darcy estate and I didn't even get a proper tour."

"That is inexcusable," he said with mock seriousness. "We'll have to remedy that. Come on then." They had long since finished eating.

"Seriously?" she asked, as he ushered her out of her seat.

"Why not? Chris has ordered me to do no work until this evening."

"Chris has the most interesting job description," she inserted.

He continued, "And besides, what's the point of my house if not to impress people with it?"

"I don't know. Most people, you know, just live in their houses."

"You should see my office at the Capitol home. I could live there."

She laughed. She was having the most unfathomable afternoon with him, and if he said it again she would have agreed that her trip to Earth had indeed been far from pointless.

The Darcy estate was very impressive—the kind of sprawling, magnificent building that was extremely rare anymore on the cramped planet. But she was more impressed by Darcy himself—how funny he could be, in a self-effacing way, as he led her through a maze of opulence that he was not apologetic for owning, but not overly proud of either. He kept revealing more of himself, layers beneath layers, and each one she enjoyed more than the last.

She wanted the chance to rewind. She wanted to be standing in her garden on the day he was leaving Maia and to say back to him, "I really like you too." She wanted him to make the same confession twice, knowing that this was surely too much to hope for.

But then, he nearly did. At least, she thought he nearly did. In the hall, he turned toward her with uncharacteristic impulsivity and said, "How stupid would I be if I told you something I've told you once before, with very bad results?"

His eyes were searching hers. She managed—somehow she managed—to stay calm as she replied, "I think, in this case, not stupid."

But fate was against her. His phone rang. "Hold that thought," he said, pulled it out and looked at it. She could tell that he wanted to answer. He was, after all, still Will Darcy, and very much about his job.

"It's Collins," he explained. "I know it's completely rude, and normally I'm looking for any excuse to ignore him. But with the meeting tomorrow…"

"It's fine," she said, meaning it. "Really."

He took the call. But after a few minutes of what seemed like confusing conversation, he was handing the phone to her with a bewildered expression. "It's Char. Seems to be some sort of emergency."

She took the phone, involuntarily walked a few paces away from Darcy. "Char?" she said.

"Hey," Char said, for it was Char. "Listen, I got back here and there was some kind of hysterical voice message from your mother, so I took the liberty of calling her back and it sounds like Lydia's run off with some guy and left a note."

Elizabeth knew. She knew it right then—Lydia's histrionics about being in love, her persistent questioning about George Wickham the night before. But as long as it wasn't for sure, Elizabeth was going to suspend her disbelief. She was going to remain calm. "Do you know what the note said?" she asked Char, voice steady and clear.

"You're mom read it to me, but she was still more or less in hysterics mode at the time so I didn't get it all down. But it was pretty ambiguously worded. No mention of the guy's name, although it did at the end say something like, _Tell Elizabeth not to be mad. She doesn't understand him_. And something about getting married, so I would speculate the rendezvous is Malderin. Any of her suitors that you particularly didn't like?"

Elizabeth was silent, and Char added, "You know who it is, don't you?"

Of course she knew who it was. "Have you talked to Janie?" she asked.

"That's the thing. I've been trying her since I got off the phone with your mother, but there must be something wrong with the satellite out there because I'm getting a signal like nothing's out there. See what happens when they kick me off the planet?"

She smiled at his ill-timed humor. "Okay. I'm going to try her from here."

"Where are you?" Char asked.

She didn't want to have the Will Darcy conversation right then, so she just said, "I'll be back soon. And if my mom keeps badgering you with phone calls tell her you've told me what's going on and I'll call her when I know something for sure."

She hung up the phone, and looked towards Darcy. He was looking anywhere but at her, but she suspected he had been watching her throughout the conversation, though she was far enough away that he wouldn't have been able to hear it. She walked back over and handed him the phone.

"Everything alright?" he asked. His eyes registered concern, and she felt suddenly sad. This had been it, hadn't it? She had been sure, she had hoped, that this was it. But now she was going to drive the wedge back between them. Or Lydia was going to. Or Lydia already had.

"I need to use a satellite screen," she said, instead of answering his question. "I need to talk to Maia. Something's happened."

He did not ask questions. He led her to a room that was probably used for meetings. It was empty except for the satellite screen and a table. "I'll just…" he trailed off and made like he was going to leave her alone. Something made her stop him. Maybe it was wrong, but it was easier for her this way then having to explain later, or having to decide whether to explain or not.

"No," she said, "No, stay."

Darcy hesitated, but his curiosity must have gotten the better of him in the end because he stayed. But Elizabeth noticed he positioned himself out of the screen's range.

She tried the station first, and found that Char had been right. Their satellite screen out there wasn't working. She took a breath, and without glancing back at Darcy (though she wanted too) she dialed the military ship.

Then one good thing happened. It was Johnson, her friend, who answered. "Hey Dr. Bennett," he said, and then launched into a perplexing soliloquy. "Sorry about you're station. We had some guys out there today, but honestly it got hit pretty hard. Some of thought we could try to have the place livable at least by the time you got back, but that doesn't look likely at all. And your plants. Sorry about your plant."

Elizabeth blinked. "Wait. What happened to the station?"

"Oh, I guess I assumed you'd heard," Johnson said, scratching his head. "You guys got hit during the last raid by some Ceres bombers."

"Janie?" Elizabeth asked, breathless. _Not Janie, not Janie, not Janie. _Oh God. How could she have left her alone?

But Johnson relieved her on that account, "She's fine. She was here. Want to talk to her?"

Breathing again, Elizabeth refocused at the problem at hand. "Actually, I need to talk to General Wickham, if he can be spared."

"He's not here," Johnson said, and her heart sank. "Something happened to his leg, and he took a medical leave to Malderin."

* * *

After she asked for George and George wasn't there, Elizabeth did talk to Janie. The conversation as short and to the point, the detail about what had happened to their station and how bad the damage was. But Will was no longer attending. He mind was with George. George and Malderin. Something else had happened, and he waited.

Then he realized she was turning off the screen, and turning around to face him. "It's Lydia," she said. "She run off to meet Wickham somewhere, sounds like Malderin." Then her matter-of-fact façade cracked. "_Shit_," she said, covering her face with both hands then sliding them up to push her hair back.

George. It was always fucking George. Will's mind was already leaping ahead of itself—working out what he would have to do, what he would need Chris to do, the conversation he would half to have with Gianna, how quickly he could get off-planet transport, and the list went on from there. He had to consciously stop and bring himself back to the here-and-now. Back to Elizabeth, who hadn't moved.

"What do you need?" he asked.

She had been lost in here on train of thoughts. She started at the sound of his voice, dropped her hands to her sides and looked at him. Her eyes had an expression of hopelessness, and oh how he wanted to cross the room and take her hands.

She shook her head. "I honestly don't know. I would never be able to find them on Malderin, even if I…" she trailed off and shook her head again. "I should never have left. And Janie too, Janie's out there alone without a station. She could've been killed."

"None of it's your fault," he said. Elizabeth looked doubtful, but it was so true. None of it was her fault. Most of it was his fault. Or if not his fault directly, it was at least the consequences to his actions—giving George the promotion to get his sister back, leaving the military on Maia. There was not getting around it.

"What do you think he'll do?" Elizabeth asked. "You know him better than I do. We know he's not going to marry her, no matter what she might think about that. So what is he going to do? What's the point?"

He sighed. It was ridiculous that they were having this conversation, standing across a room from each other. Minutes ago he had been sure he was going to kiss her. He had to turn his mind away from that now. He had to think about what had to be done. He said, "He has a history with girls, I won't lie to you. Some have fared better than others."

"So all I can do is hope. That he doesn't abandon on Malderin without a cent to her name or drop her off on the Grid and we never hear of her again. I just have to hope that George Wickham has some shred of humanity left in him."

Will tired not to wince at her last sentence, but it did hurt in more ways than one. He wanted to tell her he was going to fix it. But he couldn't. He couldn't promise anything, and so he would not even say that he was going to try.

"I should get you back to your parents, or to Char's," he said.

She seemed surprised by the abruptness of the suggestion. He realized he sounded like he wanted to get rid of her. But then, that was what he needed to do. There wasn't much time.

"Right," she said. "Of course, you're right."

"I'll have a driver take you," Darcy said.

She nodded, then turned her head. She would no longer look at him. He led the way out, found his driver and accompanied them to the car. Neither he nor Elizabeth spoke again until he opened the back seat of the car for her. Before getting inside, she paused to say, "There's nothing I can do. I just need to go back to Maia, as quickly as I can."

Will added that to his mental list.

As soon as she was gone, he was calling Chris. The phone rang and rang, and just when he thought his friend wasn't going to pick up, Chris's groggy voice came through. "I'm supposed to have at least more hour of sleep," Chris said.

"You know how my political enemies like to say I'm just the face and you could do this job without me?"

"Yes," Chris said. "And I'm even going to try to guess where this is going."

Will smiled grimly. "Well, it's time we proved them right.

* * *

**A/N: I'm thrilled so many of you are still with me through the slow updates. The good news is school is over and three weeks and then hopefully things will speed up again. The other good news is that it was a long chapter (partly because I so enjoy writing pointless Darcy-Chris scenes). **

**Hope you enjoyed! Review!**


	19. Part II, Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Two hours later, Will Darcy was once again driving back to his house. He had met with Chris and they had strategized the next week as best they could. Now all that was left was to pack a quick bag and have the talk with Gianna, and Will would be on his way to Malderin.

This time, he had told Chris the truth. Back when Gianna had run away with George, it had still seemed unclear to Will where his loyalties were. Lines had been clearly drawn since then, and it no longer was necessary to protect George or to keep secrets from Chris. He knew whom to trust. So he had told Chris about George rendezvousing with Lydia on Malderin, and he had explained his intention to follow them there.

"Why do you think you'll be able to find him this time?" Chris had asked.

The question was fair enough. "I'm banking on this being about me," Will said. "And George being a creature of habit."

Chris nodded. "You think he'll take her to wherever he was with Gianna."

"He did pick the same planet."

"Right. It seems pointed." Chris paused and tapped the pen he was holding against his chin, deep in thought. He rejoined, "Of course I'll do whatever you need. But it seems to me there's another way we could manage this."

"As in you could go to Malderin to find George and I could stay here to run the Bisbee meeting instead of the reverse." Will had considered this himself. It was tempting.

Chris pointed the pen at will as if to say, exactly. But he said aloud, "Of course, if unforeseen circumstances caused the finding of George to be harder then we're imaging, I wouldn't have your brotherly intuition to fall back on."

The thing was, Will did very much feel that it needed to be him who went to Malderin. But he couldn't explain why. So he fell back on an old joke and said, "You're just trying to get out of the Bisbee meeting because you hate being in charge of things."

"I do! I so hate being in charge of things."

Will laughed in spite of the circumstances. "Well, this will be character building for both of us," he had said.

Now, as he drove away, he almost wished he had taken Chris up on his offer. How easy it would be to run the meeting with Bisbee. How difficult it would be to see George again, if he could even find him. Despite the confidence he had shown Chris, it was only a hunch that George would take Lydia to the same place he'd taken Gianna. Will could be wrong.

His phone rang. When he glanced down and saw Caroline's name on the screen, his first impulse was to ignore the call. Then he thought again. He needed a favor. He answered.

"Hello," Caroline said in that overly-bright tone she used when she was trying to win him by charm. "Chris said you were pulling an all-nighter. You boys need me to run you in some food?"

"I'm sure your brother wouldn't say no to that, but unfortunately I'll be having my all-nighter on a transport ship."

"Oh," she said flatly, and Will was pretty sure Chris would not be seeing any food. She asked, "Where are you going?"

"Just a work thing that came up," he said, not answering her question at all. He tagged on quickly, "Caroline, can I ask you a favor?"

The idea of doing him a favor perked Caroline up again, and Will said, "I know Chris will check in on her, but would you mind going over and staying with Gianna for a few days? I might be gone a week or more, and I don't want her to be alone the whole time."

"Of course, I'd love to. Although I don't understand where you're going in such a hurry…" She paused, but when Will didn't jump in to offer an explanation she added, "I suppose Elizabeth Bennett will be gone by the time you get back."

"I suppose she will," he replied, without any particular inflection.

"That's too bad," Caroline said. Her tone, however, was altogether pleased.

He had to get off the phone. "Look Caroline, I've got to go. But I'll let Gianna know you're coming to stay. And thank you." He heard her say something like, _of course, _and then clicked off before she could add anything else. Relieved to be rid of one nuisance, he spent the rest of the drive mentally preparing for another: talking with Gianna about George.

Will had never pressed his sister for details about those three months she'd been with George, and she hadn't offered many. She was not, by nature, as reserved as he was, so perhaps she had sensed he had not wanted to hear the details. And that was true; he hadn't. He would've listened, of course, if she wanted to talk about it. But no part of him would've enjoyed it. And he wasn't going to enjoy it now.

When he walked into the house, he heard the sound of the piano and followed it to the living room. There Gianna sat on the bench, engrossed in her music. But she heard him enter the room, and at the end of the movement she stopped and turned around.

"Hey, nice timing. I just got home too," she said cheerfully. Will must have been wearing his weariness all over his face, because she seemed to notice it. She frowned slightly, but didn't ask him what was wrong.

He sat down and unconsciously ran both hands through his hair, considering how to begin. But there wasn't time to ease into things. He was leaving in less than an hour now. He said, "Okay, first let me say I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. But it's George again, and we have to talk about Malderin."

"Okay," she said simply, her expression unreadable.

"Gianna…" he sighed.

"No, I mean, I'm actually okay with that. But I'm worried you're not. What's going on?"

Will wondered where to start. He wanted to tell her everything—everything about George and Elizabeth—starting with Maia and ending with now. He wanted to lay all of pieces in front of them, and sort through them with her, and at last understand all things he was feeling, and know for sure that what he was going to do was the right thing and that it would work. But there wasn't time for that kind of examination. He had to get on a ship, and he still had a long night ahead of him—a three-way conference satellite with Chris and their Ceres contacts.

Gianna was looking at him with concern and expectation. He said, "Short version, George took Elizabeth's sister to Malderin, and I think if I know where he took you, I can find them. I'm leaving in less than an hour." He paused. "Gianna, I wish there was time to talk about his properly. I know I'm being brusque, and I can call you from the ship tomorrow but…" He ran out of words and stopped talking. He felt terrible. About so many things.

Gianna was nodding slowly, taking it in. "Give me a second to think," she said. And then she stood up. "Come on, you need to pack. I'll do this while you pack."

And she did. While he threw things in a bag, she gave him an account of her time on Malderin. She and George had stayed in mercifully few places, which would help. She wrote down all the specifics she remembered, names and places, and it was good. It was enough. Between that and a little detective work, Will had hope for a successful outcome.

When Will was done packing and Gianna was done remembering, they took the stairs down the garage together.

"Caroline is going to come stay with you," he told her, before he got into his car. He had almost forgotten that detail.

"Okay," Gianna said. And then she threw her arms around him in a spontaneous embrace. When she released him she said, "George may have his charming George exterior, but you're one thousand times the person he is, and anyone who can't see it is a moron. And I know you'll always feel like you lost a brother, but you have Chris. And you have me."

He hugged her again. She was worth a million Georges, and he told her so. She smiled. "I sort of am," she said. "Call me if you need me. But if Caroline answers, you did that to yourself."

"Find her a husband while I'm gone, will you?"

Gianna nodded solemnly. "I'll do my best." And with that parting, Will climbed into the car and backed out of the garage.

* * *

Elizabeth stood in front of the window in her parents' living room, looking out at an exceptionally sunny day. Why was it that in films and books the weather matched people's feelings, but never in real life? Elizabeth wanted rain—a good, heavy storm. Instead, she was treated to a warm front.

Twenty-four hours had passed since she had left Darcy's garage. She had not heard from him. She had not expected to hear from him, but the disappointment was no less acute.

Apart from a brief stop at Char's to collect her things and then the ride out (Char had driven her), she had been with her parents since leaving Darcy's house. Her mother was still shrieking with hysterics and would probably continue to do so for at least a week. Her father was withdrawn and quiet. Elizabeth was left to navigate the two extremes, and she wasn't doing a very keen job. Exhaustion had long since set in. And there were far too many things rattling around in her head.

Like, for example, what was she supposed to _do? _The irrational part of her wanted to get on a ship to Malderin and bang down every door until she found her sister, but she knew that wasn't even remotely a good plan. If Will Darcy, with all the resources at his disposal, had not been able to find George on the planet, there was no way she would be able to. She knew enough about Malderin to know that the planet was one giant, multi-leveled city. That there were more places to hide on that one planet than anywhere in the galaxy. That it was easier to not be found on Malderin than to be found.

So it wouldn't be of any use to follow her first impulse.

If she couldn't do any good on Malderin, she wanted to go back to Maia. She wanted to be there to help Janie rebuild and to kick George Wickham in the balls when he returned from his "medical leave," if he returned at all. But she felt like he would return. She knew that he was ambitious. He wanted to be somebody, and he wouldn't sabotage himself by deserting.

But what would become of Lydia?

She couldn't say for sure. She hoped that George would have enough decency to send her home. But she suspected he would simply abandon her on Malderin to find her own way, and that maybe Lydia would never find it. But if Elizabeth were back on Maia when George returned, she would at least have a better chance of extracted the truth from him. And then she could go to Malderin herself, and collect her sister.

And Janie needed her help to. Janie needed her help to rebuild.

But she had no idea when she would get back to Maia. The return journey of the Bisbee ship she'd come to Earth on had been delayed. She was sure this had something to do with the meeting with Will, and she knew she ought be grateful. But she just felt stuck.

She heard, from upstairs, the distinctive sound of Rose Bennett breaking into another fit of hysterical weeping. Amidst the sobs, she heard her name called. With a sigh, Elizabeth started the trudge up the stairs to her parent's bedroom. It wasn't that she could fault her mother's emotions—Elizabeth had given her parent's a clear enough picture of Wickham's character, being careful to omit any details involving any Darcys. But Elizabeth believed in being pragmatic, proactive. She believed in not letting your emotions get the best of you. And so the sitting around was killing her.

Rose Bennett was in bed. She had such dark make-up stain beneath her eyes, Elizabeth swore she had to be reapplying her mascara at intervals just so she could cry it off again. For Rose, crying was something she did with her whole body, and the bed shook gently with her as she convulsed. She was muttering something incoherent between the sobs about her poor daughter, and her poor daughter's lost soul.

Robert Bennett sat in a chair in the corner, silent in the face of the storm.

Amidst the chaos, the phone began ringing. It was closest to her mother, but Elizabeth lunged towards the end table and grabbed it before anyone else could. "Hello?" she said into the phone.

"It's Chris," said Chris, on the other end of the line. Not Darcy then. Not that she'd expected Darcy.

Rose said in her tearful voice, "Is it Lydia?" and Elizabeth had to shake her head. "It's for me," she said and then took the phone out of the room to talk to Bingley.

He said, "Haven't heard anything about your sister, then?"

"No," she sighed. "Haven't heard anything."

"Well. If you still want it, we've got you a ship back to Maia."

She was surprised. "You have? Who's 'we'?"

Ignoring her second inquiry, Chris replied, "Yeah, supply ship out to the army. Leaves later today, in fact."

"When exactly later?"

"Whenever exactly you can be ready," Chris said, and Elizabeth understood that it wasn't really a supply ship out to the army. It was a parting gift from Will. Another dune buggy. She felt sad.

"What should I do?" she asked Chris. Then she wondered why she was asking him. She supposed it was because he was on the other end of the line, and she just didn't know anymore. She felt too tired to make decisions.

"I think Lydia's going to be okay," Chris said, as if he knew something she didn't. Or maybe that was just his reassuring nature. He continued, "And you know there's nothing you could accomplish by going to Malderin. So it's staying here or going back to Maia."

She nodded. She had known this but it was nice to have someone else lay it out for her. "So I go back," she concluded. "Janie needs me."

"Janie needs you," he agreed. Then, with the slightest hesitation in his voice, he added, "Tell her I'm glad she's okay."

Elizabeth considered whether she and Chris were on the kind of terms which allowed her to ask her next question. But he had told her the truth about Will and George, they seemed to be friends. She decided to ask: "Chris, why did you let Darcy talk you out of that? Janie, I mean."

He sighed into the phone. "You know, it wasn't that really. I knew he was in a George-related dark place at the time, although he did make some salient points about the feasibility of the whole thing. I guess that _was _it. It didn't seem feasible. And I figured it was one of those things I'd be over in a few weeks. That part, at least, I was wrong about."

"That's life," Elizabeth said tritely. But what else was there to say?

"By the way, I think Darce like you," Chris said. He paused for reaction. Elizabeth gave none and he continued, "I don't know what that means to you, if anything, but besides him being insanely powerful and good looking—which they tell me are things girls like—he is also one of the best guys I know, once you get past the exterior."

She said, "Are you sure you're not in love with him?"

"Ha ha. I'm just saying, be nice to him."

It was Elizabeth's turn to sigh. "Chris, I am never going to see Will Darcy again."

"Maybe you're right," he said. "Sometimes I think the universe has gotten too big."

"And yet it's still too small," she said. Now they were both thinking about George, the bad penny.

Chris brought them back around to business, asking when she thought she would be ready to leave. She gave him a time. "Okay," he said. "Well, I'll see you off when you get here, so I won't say goodbye yet."

And while Elizabeth would be glad to see Chris one more time, it was one more indication that Darcy wouldn't see her off. The door was closed.

* * *

Will started calling Chris at noon and finally got him on satellite four hours later. He normally would've been annoyed, but it was virtually impossible to be annoyed with Chris at the moment. The man was doing him too many favors. So he simply asked, "How'd it go?"

Chris looked relaxed, which was a good sign. Will hoped he had managed to get at least a few hours of sleep. They had both been up the whole night before, on satellite with Ceres and then each other as they worked out the details of the proposed true agreement in the Outer Colonies. And Chris had gone straight from that to the meeting with New Bisbee.

Chris said, "Actually, quite well. I may have a career in politics. Although I will say that President de Bourgh was less than pleased by your non-appearance. It's hard to sell _family emergency _when everyone knows the only family you have is Gianna."

"If only that were true."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Well, I know what you think about George and you know what I think about George, so I won't bother launching into that argument again. Where are you exactly?"

"Almost to Malderin," Will said. The flight had not been long enough. He had spent the time with Gianna's notes, preparing his plan of attack. But he did not feel mentally prepared.

Chris said, "Elizabeth started back to Maia about an hour ago. She was all, I'll never see Darcy again."

"And did she seem to think that was a positive or a negative thing?" Will asked. Chris shrugged, enigmatic, and Will added, "We should've sent Char with her."

Chris scratched his head. "I didn't think of that."

"Me neither. Until right now." Will paused. He held his hands up to his temples and squeezed, as if the pressure would slow down some of the thoughts racing through his head. He needed to sort himself. He probably needed some sleep. He said, "It occurs to me that I do not want to see George again. So soon, under these circumstances."

"As I said, I could've gone. You could've handled things on this end."

"Yes but…" Will trailed off.

But Chris nodded knowingly. "He's your brother. I think you always do want to see him, even when you know it's going to be shit."

Will couldn't argue. It was a pretty astute psychoanalysis.

* * *

**A/N: If these chapter had titles this one would be called, "In which everyone talks to Chris." Heh. Sorry if some of it felt like filler but it was necessary getting everyone where they need to be plot-wise.**

**Anyway, the good news: I'm officially graduated from grad school. There are only a few more chapters left to this story, and hopefully that means they will be up with some alacrity. No more month-long waits!**

**Thanks as always for all of your reviews! I love hearing whatever it is you think about the chapters, so keep reviewing!**


	20. Part II, Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

There's a place on Malderin called The Sunshine Rooms. The name is an ironic one, perhaps deliberately, for The Sunshine Rooms is part of the Under City—the city beneath the Top City—which never sees the light of day. You can take a girl, as young as you like, to The Sunshine Rooms, no questions asked. And if you like, you can leave her there instead as payment for your time spent. The Grid itself—the only intergalactic prostitution ring—makes its rounds to The Sunshine Rooms to pick up whoever gets left behind.

Room 22B was occupied that night by a couple not at all dissimilar from the usual patrons. The man was a good-looking fast-talker, charismatic and cocky. The girl was young, trying to look older. But she wasn't the wilted victim type. She was keen and in no way inexperience herself. It probably hadn't taken much work to get her there.

Now, however, she sat at the window, looking out on a street that was always lit by the same electric buzz. She was wearing cotton shorts, a T-shirt, and no make-up. Her knees were pulled up to her waste and her arms looped around them. She looked younger than she had looked in years.

The man was on the bed behind her, smoking. She hated smoke, but she hadn't told him. She hated this planet with its fake sunshine and over-cramped surface area. She was disappointed with her adventure. She didn't want to get married anymore. Lydia Bennett just wanted to go home.

But she hadn't told him that yet either. It would either start a row or he would laugh at her. Or both. To be honest, she was a little afraid that she would never get home now. She couldn't say why, but she certainly had an unsettling feeling about everything.

The streets outside of The Sunshine Rooms were crowded. The streets were always crowded, down every forgotten corner of this godforsaken planet. Lydia was watching the throng absently, so that when she first saw him, it was like a mirage. She saw his face, and then she lost it in the crowd and chalked it up to her imagination. But then she caught sight of him again, and it was defiantly him.

She said, "Shit, it's Will Darcy."

"What?" George Wickham said from the bed. She turned around to see that he had straightened up, and was stubbing the cigarette out on the bedside table. There was some kind of look in his eyes she hadn't seen yet, and she had seen a lot of looks over the past three days.

She said, "I just saw Will Darcy. I know it was him. What the hell is he doing here?"

But George didn't answer her. He just started laughing.

"Okay," Will said into his earpiece satellite phone. He now stood in front of The Sunshine Rooms. Gianna had given him the names of four place where she and George had stayed. This was the second he'd tried. "I appear to be here. Any last words of advice?"

Chris's muffled voice came back in reply. "I only ask that you keep in mind that although dueling may still be legal on Malderin, you are not an excellent marksman, and I really don't want to have to marry Anne de Bourgh and ascend to the presidency to live out your legacy after your life is cut tragically short."

"I'm not going to marry Anne de Bourgh."

"Well I won't have the luxury of choice, will I? And you completely missed the point. The point was, no dueling."

"I'm hanging up on you now," Will said, and did so.

He walked inside and was greeted by the front desk worker, a cheerful, cleanly-scrubbed brunette who either had no idea what kind of business she represented or was a remarkable actress. She asked him if she could help him with anything. But Gianna had remembered her room number, and he had a hunch George was a regular here. He said, "No, I know where I'm going." The girl smiled and let him pass without question.

He went up the stairs and turned to the left, but before he could even get down the hall to room 22B, the door opened and George walked out of it. He was doing the top buttons of his shirt, like he was just getting dressed. Will stopped dead in his tracks.

George finished the buttons and rolled his eyes. "She's perfectly fine, okay? And she's hardly going to run off somewhere, is she? Come on, let's go get a drink somewhere."

"I'm just supposed to take your word for it Lydia Bennett is in there safe and sound?" Will asked. He still had not moved.

George shrugged. "A clever man like you really shouldn't take my word for it about anything." He gestured towards the door with his elbow. "See for yourself if you like."

They were standing with a distance between them that made Will think of showdowns in old westerns. He said, "Is that the either-or then? I can make sure Lydia's okay, or I can come get a drink with you, but no having my cake and eating it?"

George said nothing, just continued to stare him down. But Will's mind was already made. Without hesitation, he walked past George to 22B and reached for the doorknob.

George said, "Go ahead, take her home. Honestly, what am I going to do with her?"

Will looked at him. "I assume you could pay for your three nights stay in these lovely accommodations."

George's face remained impassive. But suddenly Will did have pause. It felt like the last time they would see each other. If there weren't answers now, there would never be answers. He said, "I'm going to put Lydia Bennett on my ship. Then I'll come back."

George leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. He didn't respond, and Will could not say if George would still be at The Sunshine Rooms when he got back.

Lydia was already packed. "I saw you out of the window, then George just started laughing and told me to pack. I don't know what the hell is going on, but whatever. I want to go home anyway," she told him on their way back to his transport. Little else passed between them. The truth was, Lydia Bennett was little more than a set piece, and Will didn't have the heart to tell her that.

He dropped her off at the ship, instructing her to call her parents and let them know she was okay and coming home, but to leave any details involving himself out of her story. Then he turned around and started back toward the motel. On his way, he called Collins at home and asked for Char, whom he had decided to trust.

Char sounded hesitant when he came on the phone. He must have been told Will Darcy wanted to talk to him and was wondering why. Will didn't waste any time mucking around. He said, "Lydia's fine. She'll be on her way back to Earth in an hour or so. She's supposed to be calling her parents—"

Char interrupted him. "Are you on Malderin? Did you go _find_ her?" His tone was somewhere in between shocked and bewildered.

They were some very valid questions, but Will ignored them. "I was wondering if you could get the word to Elizabeth. Not mentioning me, just letting her know Lydia is safe."

"I can try, but she kind of in radio silence right now. She's still got four or five days on the supply ship, and they don't have satellites do they?"

"Not often," Will conceded.

"And Maia is basically impossible to get a hold of since the station got hit. Apparently they're down to one satellite on the military ship that hasn't gone dodgy, and they're trying to leave it open for anything urgent that might come through. But I'll certainly try." He paused, then rejoined, "Sorry, but I'm a little confused. Why would you go to Malderin to rescue the likes of Lydia Bennett if you don't even want the credit for that very heroic gesture?"

Will had expected the questions, and he had already made the decision he would answer them. "George and I have a…a long history. And two years ago it was my sister. Same planet, same scenario. I just felt…responsible somehow."

There was silence on the other line. For once, Char had no pithy response. When at last he spoke, the only said, "Right. No mention of you to Elizabeth, then."

"Thanks," Wills said. "And can I ask you one more favor? I haven't explained any of this to Lydia, just basically told her to keep me out of what she tells her parents. But if you might have a talk with her, stress the importance of this staying between as few people as possible."

"I'll call her right now if you give me the number for your ship."

Will gave him the number, and got off the phone. He had realized mid-way through the conversation with Char how much he had put himself on the line with this trip to Malderin. Mostly the media loved him (no point in being apologetic about it; it was just a political fact, and it made his life easier) but there always were a few looking for any breath of scandal to attach to his name. He had held so tightly to his secrets for years; now suddenly he found himself calling up mere acquaintances and telling them part of his story—not all of it, but a lot more than he would've six months ago.

Jesus. What had Elizabeth Bennett done to him?

At least Chris should be pleased, he found himself ruefully thinking. Chris was always on about how he needed to stop mistrusting everyone. Well, it seemed that he had stopped. He just hoped it wouldn't come back to destroy his political career.

As he saw The Sunshine Rooms come back into view, his train of thought evaporated. He considered. He could still just walk back to the ship and go home. Yet he knew he would not do that. So he pushed ahead through the crowd on the street and walked back into the dingy motel.

George glanced when he heard the door open. He was still there, leaning against the front desk, probably soliciting the buxom receptionist now that he was bereft of female companionship. "I'll be seeing you later, Rita," he said to the girl (Rita, apparently), as he pushed himself off the desk. "Let's go, then," he said to Will, walking towards him and then past him to lead the way back out the door. Will was not surprised to find that George new his way around the Under City. They were soon in another dim and suspect establishment, where the bartender knew George by name.

They ordered drinks. Little had been said. Will was waiting. He had learned, with George, it was best not to show your hand early. Besides, he still wasn't sure what his hand was.

George knocked his drink back easily and set the glass down on the bar. "I've been wondering when you would show up," George said. "I've been wondering since the last time I was on this planet. We didn't quite get our epic moment then, did we? So I figured we needed another round to end things with a bang."

Will shook his head. "For fuck's sake, it's not a game, George. Lydia Bennett is a kid."

George snorted. "Hardly. And come on. Are we really going to pretend either of us gives a shit about Lydia Bennett? Now _Elizabeth_ on the other hand…" He paused, shrugged. "Have to hand it to you, William. You won that round."

"What do you want?" Will asked. George raised his eyebrows, and Will repeated the question: "I don't want anything from you; what do you want from me?"

A silence. Will guessed that George calculating what he could ask for and get, although George was looking at him seriously, not blinking and not looking away. He said, "Of course you want something from me. You want me to love you."

Why had he come to Malderin? He saw it now: the trip had been the equivalent of stepping in front of a high-speed train, and the train had just hit him. Will did not even try to respond, because he knew wouldn't be able to him. There was nothing he could say. George had pegged him.

So George continued after a pause, "I want off Maia. Actually, wait. I want out of the Outer Colonies altogether. It's a fucking mess out there."

Business. Will could talk business. "The military is probably coming off Maia, but I don't have anything to do with where you'll be stationed next."

"But you could," George pointed out, which was true. Will could certainly have something to do with it if he wanted to. However, he did not flinch, not this time, and George said after a minute, "Right. Of course. You _don't _need me to love me anymore. I must have forgotten, you have Chris now. Who is a far better pet than I ever would've made—follows you around, does everything you ask, probably fetches your slippers and newspaper in the morning."

Will sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Are you really trying to bully me right now?"

"Thought I'd give it a shot." George said, and shrugged. "Well, I guess it's your move, William. You could turn me in for this stunt if you like, probably get me dishonorably discharged."

Another challenge issued. It was always going to be like this, Will realized. Their roles wouldn't change. George would keep playing the villain, keep pushing, keep seeing how far he could go before he had committed the unpardonable sin. And maybe that was it. Maybe George wanted Will to hate him, because George needed to be able justify his own feelings. Maybe he wanted Will to retaliate.

Walk away. All Will could do was walk away.

He said, "I don't know why you hate me, and I don't think we're ever going to be friends again. But you're my brother. People keep telling me you're not, but," —he shrugged— "you are. So, no, I am not going to have you dishonorably discharged. But I am also not going to help get you out of the Outer Colonies or whatever else is on your list of demands. Where ever you're going, from now on, you're going to have to help yourself. I'm done showing up."

Will stood up. George mirrored the movement, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he rose. Will could tell he was taken aback, so much so that he momentarily dropped the act of bravado to say, "I have to admit, I wasn't expecting that."

"Neither was I," Will admitted. He held out his hand, and after a moment of hesitation, George shook it. "I wish you the best," Will said. And even after everything, he found that he meant it. But of course, loving people often had little to do with whether they deserved it.

George didn't return the sentiment. Instead, he just sat back down and ordered another drink, and Will walked out of the bar alone.

* * *

"You're not going to like this," Chris said over the satellite. The look on his face said that whatever _this _was, it was bad. So bad that it couldn't wait one more day, when Will would be back on Earth. Will's first thought was that Ceres had pulled out of the truce agreement and their whole plan for getting the war away from Maia was off.

But when he guessed that, Chris shook his head. He held up a magazine for Will to see. It was a copy of _Galaxy Watch_—the one celebrity gossip magazine syndicated everywhere in the galaxy. Confused and apprehensive, Will waited while Chris flipped through to find a specific page. Then he realized Chris was probably just to read him some kind of nonsense about his secret engagement to Anne de Bourgh. And no, he wasn't going to like it. But it wasn't anything the gossip magazines hadn't printed before.

His assumptions were completely wrong.

"I'm reading from page 27," Chris said. He cleared his throat, as if to stall, before continuing. "Will Darcy left Earth due to a mysterious 'family emergency' last week, only days after scientist Dr. Elizabeth Bennett also left the planet. Darcy, who has long been tied to President Catherine de Bourg's daughter Anne, met Dr. Bennett on a government trip to the Outer Colonies five months ago. The couple seemed pretty cozy at a party for Darcy's sister last week, where Elizabeth looked like she might have more in her stomach than caviar. Is that the pattering of little Darcy feet we hear? Watch out, Anne de Bourgh, a new first lady might be moving in."

Chris paused and cleared his throat again. He added, "And some photographer managed to get a picture of you two walking out of Gianna's concert together, in which Elizabeth happens to have a hand on her stomach."

"Oh good lord." Will sighed. However out of leftfield this was, Will almost wasn't surprised. It made sense that Murphy's Law would want to sucker punch him one last time.

"My thoughts exactly," Chris replied.

"Does she know? Has anyone talked to her?"

Chris shook his head. "Getting in touch with the civilian population of Maia is basically an insurmountable feat these days. Besides, I wasn't going to touch that one with a ten foot pole. It's all yours."

"Not like I have anything else to do," Will replied with sarcasm. For a moment, he wondered if it was possible that Elizabeth might just never find out about any of this. If they were that out of touch on Maia right now, maybe he could take care of rebutting the story and it could all blow by without her being the wiser about it. But sadly that was not realistic. She wasn't going to be out of touch forever. Someone was going to tell her about this.

"Well, the good news is I don't see this having much of an effect in a political sense," Chris said. "It's obviously just a gossip magazine taking a shot in the dark. So I figure we'll just draft a response now and you can give it when you get back. It should be easy enough to turn it around, make it about your heroic efforts to get war back out of the Outer Colonies."

_How very utilitarian, _Will thought. He was remembering back to the first time he'd talked to Elizabeth about the troops on Maia. That had been the accusation she'd leveled at him: _How very utilitarian._

He said, "Let's not, though. Let's just…keep it to the point."

"Good," Chris nodded. "I should warn you that the President is livid. The only reason you haven't heard from her is because I assured her you would be back tomorrow and I think she prefers to castigate you in person. Same for Caroline."

Will groaned; Chris laughed. "It's the price you pay for being the prettiest girl at the ball. Everyone wants their piece." Chris said. "By the way..." he hesitated, but asked: "How did it go with George?"

They hadn't talked about it yet. "You were right," Will said. "It's time to disengage."

"Are you okay with that?"

Will nodded. "Actually, I think I am."


	21. Part II, Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Johnson caught Elizabeth on her way out of the military ship that morning. "He's back," he said. Elizabeth didn't have to ask who he meant. She'd returned to Maia a week ago, a week that she and Janie had spent living on the military ship while they tried to get the space station back in order, and everyone knew she was waiting for Wickham.

"Where is he?" she asked.

Johnson gestured obscuring down the hallway behind them and then kept walking past her. Elizabeth turned around. She forgot about Janie, who was waiting outside for her with the dune buggy. She marched resolutely down the hall until she came to a corner. She looked to the right, and she saw him. He was leaned forward, talking to a sergeant, and then his head happened to turn and he caught her eye. She started towards him, watching as he sent the sergeant away, then straightened, crossed his arms and waited for her.

"Where the hell is my sister?" she demanded, as she came to a stop in front of him.

He looked bored. "How the hell should I know?" he asked. And then he started walking away from her. He had an annoying habit of doing that—walking away and making her chase after him, nipping at his heals like a puppy.

Instead of chasing, she grabbed his arm. He shook her off easily, but the surprising force of her grip at least brought him to a halt and she squared off in front of him. She wished she were taller. Her head came halfway to his chest.

But a difference in height hardly stopped her from injecting her words with an almost threatening intensity. "I am not fucking around, Wickham," she said. "You tell me where my sister is." She didn't have to add an _or else_. It was in the subtext. He would tell her where Lydia was, or she would do whatever she had to, whatever was in her power. She figured she could guilt one more favor out of Will Darcy. She wasn't beyond doing that for Lydia, even though to do so would really being the final nail in the coffin of that relationship. Not that it had ever really been a relationship anyway.

Perhaps Wickham sensed her level of determination. His instinct for self-preservation kicked in. He held his hands up, a gestured which seemed to imply, _alright, you got me_. He said, "Look, as far as I know she's back on Earth, safe and sound."

She stared at him. Was she just going to have to take his word towards him? Damn the war. Damn the obliterated satellite on her bombed space station, and the fact that two of the satellites on military ship were also on the fritz, and they were only allowing the third to be used for emergencies. She couldn't just believe him. If there was one thing she knew for sure about Wickham, it was that he was a magnificent liar.

"I want to call home. I want to talk to her," she said.

"You know you can't," he said briskly. She could tell he was going to start walking away from her again soon. Did he even have somewhere to go, or did he just know that it was infuriating?

"I will make your life hell," she said, and meant.

Wickham appraised her. And then, unexpectedly, he laughed. Not a hardy laugh of enjoyment—it was a bitter laugh, as if he were laughing at some cruel and private irony. "I don't give a flying fuck about you or your fast little sister. And you know that, don't you?"

Elizabeth didn't speak. It hadn't been uttered as much of a question anyway. He continued, "I'll let you use the satellite tonight. Ten minutes is all you're getting. Nine o'clock." He turned his back to her and started walking away.

White with rage, she hurled after his retreating form: "I don't give a _flying fuck, _as you say, about you and Will Darcy and your adolescent mind games, but from now on you keep my sister out of them."

There had been a hesitation in his step when she'd said Will Darcy. It had been ever so slight, but she had seen it. So she knew she had got it somewhere where it still hurt, perhaps the only place he still felt anything. She barely even cared. At the moment, all she felt angry. Angry and stupid. She felt like all along she had only been a pawn in the battle that would always been raging between the brothers.

_Screw them both; she didn't want anything to do with either them_, she thought to herself as she stomped her way out of the military ship. Janie and the dune buggy were gone. She had a long walk ahead of her. She started off at a brisk clip, but halfway through the walk her pace and waned and so had her anger. It was true she didn't want anything to do with Wickham (although them being on the same planet, it wasn't exactly an option). But she would be lying to pretend that she felt that same way about Darcy.

She decided to try to turn her feelings off. She deliberately focused her mind on other things. There was still so much work to be done.

In the week it had taken Elizabeth to get back to Maia, Janie and a small band of recruits had managed to clear the debris out of the space station. It wasn't as bad as Elizabeth had imagined. Yes, it was completely unlivable—the living area had been all but take out, the satellite was down, as was the water recycling system, and sadly her garden had also taken a hit—but the lab was more or less intact.

The recruits had dwindled, until now it was only Elizabeth and Janie left working on putting their station back together. It was slow going, but now that Wickham was back Elizabeth felt reenergized by a strong desire to live as far away from him as possible. She quickened her pace again as she neared the space station, or what was left of it.

The day passed as all the days before it had since she'd been back on Maia—with work. It wasn't even the kind of work she enjoyed, the exciting work of discovery and experiment. It was basically construction at the moment, and though she and Janie were getting along alright on their own, they had both lamented that Char was not with them to help.

"You couldn't have brought him back with you?" Janie wondered.

Honestly, she probably could have, but Elizabeth hadn't thought to ask.

They headed back early because of Elizabeth's date with the satellite, which she was eager not to miss. She headed down to the satellite room ten minutes before nine. Wickham didn't meet her there, but he had obviously left orders to allow her to use it. She was let inside the room. She immediately called home, not even considering what time it would be on Earth (very late). As she waited, she began to fear that nobody would answer. But then somebody did.

Lydia. Wearing her favorite pajamas. All in one piece.

She didn't look surprised that Elizabeth was calling. "Hey," she said, her tone a little sheepish, as if she knew what was coming.

And though Elizabeth had tons of lectures—tons and tons and tons, which she'd had weeks to prepare—she suddenly didn't feel like giving them. Lydia was okay. Elizabeth was seeing it with her own eyes. Lydia was safe and sound on Earth. Lydia was fine. And Elizabeth only said tiredly, "I have never been so relieved to see anyone."

"Yeah," Lydia said. "I guess it was kind of stupid."

Elizabeth just shook her head. "What were you thinking?" she asked.

Lydia pulled her legs up in front of her on the couch and wrapped her arms around them. She sighed. "I don't know. It's just…well everything is always about Elizabeth, and how awesome you are at everything, and stopping wars and hanging out with the president. I mean, it's so easy for you. And I just…I thought he really liked me. I wanted something to be about me. But it wasn't anyway. I think it was still about George getting back at you or something."

"Lydia," Elizabeth sighed. "It wasn't about me at all. Look…" she paused, wondering how much she could tell, or should tell. "George Wickham has some weird big history with somebody else, and that's what it was about. Not me. At all."

"With who?" Lydia asked.

"Somebody else," Elizabeth repeated.

Lydia bit her lip, as if there was something she was trying not to say. But it only took a minute for her resolve to weaken and she burst, "Will Darcy?"

Elizabeth blinked. "What?" But Lydia was already trying to backtrack, saying something like, nothing, it was just a guess. Elizabeth was not going to have that. She said, "Lydia, what do you know about Will Darcy."

"I'm not supposed to tell."

Elizabeth looked as her as sternly as she could across the satellite screen. If Wickham had told Lydia the Tom Jones story, Elizabeth was going to correct it. It was the least she could do. She waited, and again Lydia cracked. She said, all in one breath, "Will Darcy found us on Malderin and took me back to Earth and then Char called and told me I couldn't tell anyone." A guilty expression crossed Lydia's face. She added, "Especially you."

To say that Elizabeth was stunned would've been to understate things. She honestly could not respond. She thought about the last day she'd seen Darcy, how in a hurry he'd seemed to get rid of her. Had it really been to do this?

She heard a rap on the door behind her. Her time in the satellite room was up. "I have to go," she told Lydia. "But Char was right, Lydia. You cannot tell anyone." Elizabeth felt desperate, suddenly, to conceal Darcy's secrets. Lydia was nodding her acquiescence, but Elizabeth added, "I'm serious, Lydia. This is really important."

"I know, I shouldn't have even told you," Lydia said. "I swear, I'm not going to tell anyone else." It was the best promise Elizabeth was going to get from her now. She said goodbye, turned the satellite off, and headed back to the room that she and Janie were sharing.

"She's okay?" Janie asked, as soon as Elizabeth entered. Elizabeth nodded and Janie smiled. "I said she would be okay." And of course Janie, always the optimist, had said this.

Elizabeth wanted to tell Janie about Darcy. She wanted to tell someone. But she hadn't worked up the courage yet to talk to Janie about either Chris or Darcy. Neither of them had brought up the subject, although both of them knew Elizabeth had spent a lot of time with the pair during her few days on Earth. At night, they were usually both too exhausted to start that kind of emotionally wrought conversation. But Elizabeth had felt guilty—she had felt like she owed it to Chris to at least relay his message.

She was still thinking about it all—Will and Chris and Wickham and Lydia and everything that had happened in less than a year—much later, after they had turned out the lights in their room to go to bed. It was keeping her awake.

"Janie?" she whispered, not loud enough to wake her if she was asleep.

But Janie said, "Yes, I'm awake too."

"Chris wanted me to tell you he's glad you're okay."

Janie was silent. The room was pitch black. Elizabeth couldn't gage Janie's reaction at all. She added, "He's totally still in love with you."

"Elizabeth," Janie sighed. She sounded sad and tired.

"I wouldn't tell you that if it was something I was just inferring. He straight up told me, more or less," Elizabeth said.

"Really?" Janie asked, her voice momentarily hopeful. But then: "Anyway, not like it matters. I'm here. Chris is…where ever he is. Off doing important things. We missed our chance."

Janie's words hit to close to home. Elizabeth was thinking of Darcy when she heard Janie ask, "What if we rebuild the station and it just gets hit again?"

"Will Darcy is going to get the war out of the Outer Colonies," Elizabeth said. She knew it was true more than ever now. But she knew that Janie was right too. She had missed her chance.

* * *

Elizabeth had barely fallen asleep when a sharp knock on the door woke her again. Janie, who was a sound sleeper didn't stir. Thinking she had imagined it, Elizabeth turned over to fall back to sleep when she heard the knock again. She groggily climbed out of bed, pulled on a pair of pants, and answered the door.

A soldier whose name escaped her stood on the other side. "You have a satellite call, Dr. Bennett" he said, all business.

"What?" she asked. Because first of all, it was the middle of the night. And second of all, civilian satellite calls were against protocol right now, and she'd already been allowed one for the day.

"It's urgent," the soldier said. He turned and started back towards the satellite room. Confused as she was and still wearing the oversized T-shirt she slept in, Elizabeth had no choice but to follow him.

The soldier opened the door to the satellite room for her, and then closed it quickly behind her, before she'd even had a chance to ask who it was that was calling. She turned to the screen. She squinted as her eyes adjusted, but even then it took a second to realize who it was on the other side of the call, even though the person was so very familiar.

Then, to Elizabeth's shock, dismay, and downright horror, it registered.

"Mrs. President," Elizabeth said. She looked down at her T-shirt, then crossed her arms, embarrassed. She didn't even want to think about what her hair probably looked like. What was going on?

"Dr. Bennett," Catherine de Bourgh said with her chilly, superior air. "I suppose you know why I'm calling."

But Elizabeth couldn't imagine, and her confusion must have been apparent on her face. "I can honestly say, I have no idea to what I owe the honor—"

Catherine de Bourgh cut her off. "Let's be frank, Dr. Bennett. A certain salacious piece of—well I wouldn't call it journalism; let's say gossip—has been brought to my attention, which I'm sure you're already aware of."

Elizabeth's head was swimming. She couldn't only think Wickham and Lydia. But what would the President care about that? Or maybe it was something to do with the war. She said, "I'm sorry, Mrs. President, but we've been rather out of the loop here."

"Well, then let me enlighten you," President de Bourgh condescendingly replied. Elizabeth noticed for the first time that she was holding what appeared to be a magazine. Then, with increasing dread, she listened as Catherine de Bourgh read the following:

"_Will Darcy left Earth due to a mysterious 'family emergency' last week, only days after scientist Dr. Elizabeth Bennett also left the planet. Darcy, who has long been tied to President Catherine de Bourg's daughter Anne, met Dr. Bennett on a government trip to the Outer Colonies five months ago. The couple seemed pretty cozy at a party for Darcy's sister last week, where Elizabeth looked like she might have more in her stomach than caviar. Is that the pattering of little Darcy feet we hear? Watch out, Anne de Bourgh, a new first lady might be moving in._"

Catherine de Bourgh finished, and looked up at Elizabeth, adding, "You mean to tell me that you had no knowledge whatsoever of this story?"

"None," Elizabeth said. She felt incapable of saying more. Jesus. Darcy had certainly seen that by now. What must he think?

She was aware of the Catherine de Bourgh scrutinizing her, and then of her saying, "Are you ambitious, Dr. Bennett?"

"Wha—" Elizabeth began, but the President cut her off mid-word.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you that Will Darcy is going to married to my daughter. So whatever blackmail you're intending with this stunt, it's not going to work."

Elizabeth felt her hackles rising. "I'm not trying to blackmail anyone. And if Darcy is engaged to your daughter, I don't see why you would have any reason to believe that story might be true. I don't see why you would be making this satellite call."

Elizabeth knew she was making an enemy, a very powerful enemy. Catherine de Bourgh glared at her. "Are you pregnant?" she asked.

Asked point black, Elizabeth couldn't lie. It was, after all, Darcy's reputation too. "No," she said.

"Are you in a _relationship_" —she said the word with disgust— "of some kind with William Darcy?"

Elizabeth repeated her answer, "No," keeping her voice and face straight—revealing nothing but the simple facts.

Catherine de Bourgh seemed satisfied. "And may I take your word for it you will never enter into a relationship with Darcy?"

Still keeping her face and voice hard and calm, Elizabeth replied, "I couldn't possibly say."

Though by all outward appearances Catherine de Bourgh remained cool, Elizabeth could see fire behind her eyes. Yet when she spoke it was, again, dismissively: "As you wish. But I think you'll find that Darcy will choose his career."

The satellite screen switched off. The room around Elizabeth went black. She sat for a moment in the darkness, too stunned to do anything else. But then she thought she'd better take advantage of the satellite room while she had it. She got up and made a call to Char. She waited and waited. She tried three times, but no one answered. She thought for a moment, and then she called home again.

Lydia was still up. "I try to stay awake as late as possible so I can sleep as late as possible. Mom is totally smothering me," she explained, before Elizabeth asked.

"Lydia, have you seen an article or something about me and Will Darcy?" Elizabeth asked.

Lydia's eyes widened with recognition. "Oh my God, I totally forgot about that. Are you pregnant?"

"What? No! Come on, Lydia."

"Just asking. Did you at least sleep with him?"

Elizabeth was already lamenting the fact that she hadn't been able to get Char, but she remained patient. "No, I did not sleep with him. What is going on?"

Lydia shrugged. She was painting her nails a very bright yellow, and she explained as she applied a second coat, "Well, it's all kind of blown over already but there was some hype about it for a few days. It was just a _Galaxy Watch _article. I think it came out when we were coming back from Malderin, and then when we got back he made some public statement about it not being true and having the highest respect for you as a work acquaintance and bla bla bla. And that was pretty much that. Oh, except everybody is saying now how he'll probably announce his engagement to Anne de Bourgh soon."

_Well, maybe he would,_ Elizabeth thought. Despite all of Darcy's adamant I'm-not-going-to-marry-Anne-de-Bourgh protests, a pregnancy scandal—even an unsubstantiated one—changed things. Catherine de Bourgh was probably right. He would make the utilitarian decision. He would choose his career.

She couldn't blame him for that. It wasn't as if he owed her anything. In fact, quite the opposite.

"I'd better go," she told Lydia.

"Okay," Lydia said, distracted again by her nail polish. "It's kind of weird though, right? How much we've both had to do with Will Darcy, when really we both have nothing to do with him at all."

"Yes, very weird," Elizabeth listlessly agreed. She turned off her satellite and went back to her room. It didn't seem likely that she was going to get any sleep at all.

* * *

**A/N: So the next chapter will finally be the chapter you've all been waiting for! By which I mean Darcy-Elizabeth reunion. So the more reviews I get the quicker it will come! That's right, blackmail…I have learned something from George Wickham.**

**Thanks to all who have been reviewing and reading thus far for giving sci-fi Jane Austen a chance. You guys are the best. Next chapter won't be the last; I have a two-or-three-chapter Part III in mind.**

**Until next time, review! and GO PHILLIES!**


	22. Part II, Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Two days later, when Elizabeth passed Wickham in a hallway, he said, "You might want to speed up the reconstruction."

"We're moving as fast as we can _without any help_," she said tersely. And in her opinion, she and Janie were doing pretty damn well. With the living area more or less (okay, a little less) put together, the task of the day was to begin work on the water recycling system.

Wickham shrugged. "Just a suggestion. In case you have to move back in sometime in the near future."

"Yes, we would hate to trespass on your hospitality any longer than necessary," Elizabeth replied. Their conversations were always like this now—short, chilly, edged with hostility. Wickham shrugged again, and she continued on past him to where Janie was waiting for her.

"I hate him," she said to Janie.

"He wants you to hate him."

"Then congratulations, he wins," Elizabeth said crossly. She couldn't fathom how there had once been a time when she and Wickham had gotten along. She had always considered herself a good judge of character.

They drove the dune buggy out to the station and got to work on the water recycling system. It was in quite a state, and they weren't a hundred percent sure they knew how to fix it without at least consulting Char. But unfortunately, consultation was currently not an option. Nevertheless, things were going well—or seemed to be, at any rate—and then they just weren't. Elizabeth screwed or unscrewed or did something wrong to the wrong valve, and suddenly a powerful jet of dirty water was drenching them both. Elizabeth lunged at the valves and began randomly wrenching them, trying to undo what she'd done. She got it right after a few tries, but it was too late. They were soaked. The room was soaked.

Janie surveyed the room and then looked at Elizabeth. They both started laughing; it was the only thing to do. "I think we have some towels upstairs," Janie said. "I'll go get them. And a mop." She headed up the stairs. Elizabeth shook her hands and thought about how they were ever going to get this done without Char. She missed him.

"Elizabeth?" she heard Janie call down from upstairs. "You'd better come up here and see this."

Sighing, Elizabeth wiped her hands off on her pants. It wasn't very effective since her pants were already soaked. So she wiped them off on the stomach of her tank top, on a small dry patch of shirt. Then she started upstairs to see what Janie was shouting about. Mostly likely something else in the station had broken and needed to be re-fixed.

But Janie was staring out of the window. She pointed, and Elizabeth followed her gaze. Outside, landing on their planet, was a ship. A government ship.

_Stay calm_, she told herself. She looked at Janie, similarly covered in grime and water, and took charge of the situation. "Take the dune buggy back to the military ship, shower and come back here. You have time. It'll be at least another 30-minutes before anyone gets of that ship. I'll stay here and clean up the water system mess."

"Do you think…" Janie trailed off.

Elizabeth nodded. "It's Will Darcy's ship. If he's on it, Chris is too."

Janie didn't have to be told twice. While she went to make herself presentable, Elizabeth went downstairs to mop up the mess. She worked slowly, methodically, focusing all of her concentration on creating a clean, dry floor. In about twenty minutes, she heard the front door open and shut. Knowing it was Janie, she stopped working and made her way upstairs. Her heart had been pounding since she saw the ship. She was choosing to ignore it.

Janie was looking fresh and pretty. Elizabeth was glad for her, because if anyone deserved to make a good second impression it was Janie. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was caked with dirty water sludge. "Here," Janie said, handing her a towel, with which Elizabeth at least wiped her hands, and then her face.

"I'm really nervous," Janie admitted.

"Don't be," said Elizabeth. "Anyway, it might not even be them." She said it to calm herself as well as Janie. Even so, when there was a knock at the door a minute later, they both jumped.

Then Elizabeth laughed while Janie fretfully smoothed her shirt. "Ready?" Elizabeth asked, and Janie nodded. So Elizabeth went calmly to the door and opened it.

Will and Chris stood on the other side.

"Hi," Will said, and she felt his eyes appraising her, taking in her general state of disarray. Then his gaze met hers again, eyebrows raised in a question mark.

"We're having a bit of trouble with our water recycling system," Elizabeth replied, almost gaily. Because that was how she felt. He was here, in front of her, on Maia. She didn't feel nervous anymore. Her heart was pounding with a different kind of beat. So what if she was covered in dirt.

"I see that," Will said. "You seem to be having trouble with your entire station." His lips twitched as if to smile, but he restrained them. Still, she could see the smile in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she wondered aloud. At another moment she might have noticed that Chris and Janie had both turned into statues, alternately glancing awkwardly at each other and anywhere else in the room. She didn't notice.

A look of consternation crossed Will's face. "Chris should've sent you a message of some sort

about all this. He's usually very reliable."

Will glanced back at Chris, who at this juncture finally joined the conversation. "That I am," he said, with almost his usual air of breezy self-assurance. "And I did send it."

Elizabeth watched as another expression played across Will's face, this one of frustration, and she could see him thinking, _George_. But he said nothing to that effect. In fact, he was unable to say anything at all because at that moment Char emerged behind him loudly exclaiming, "What have you two women done to my house?"

This broke even Janie's silence. "Oh my God, Char!" she said. She moved forward to hug him, and Char said, "Janie, show me what's become of the water system." He started off across the room and out the other side of it. Janie, with a hesitation and a perplexed glance back at Chris, began following Char. It only took a moment for Chris to trot after them. It was all very extraordinary.

Elizabeth looked incredulously at Will. He said, "This would all make more sense if George had had the courtesy to pass along a message."

She shook her head, more from wonder than anything else. At him being there. And Char being there. At the happy incredibility of it all. She said, "Will, what the hell is going on?" And then she thought, _shit_. She had called him by his first name. Was she allowed to do that? Would he be offended? She'd never even heard Chris call him _Will_.

He seemed not to have noticed. "I'll explain," he said distractedly. He was looking around the room. "You're not actually living here?"

She shook her head. "Not at the moment. Speaking of which, you can drive me back to the military ship if you like."

* * *

But Will thought, as they stepped outside, that a drive would be too fast. "Or you know, we could just walk," he said. She took up the suggestion with an enthusiasm which encouraged him. But her whole manner since she had opened the door to him had been encouraging. She was glad to see him; that much he could tell. And he had very much noticed that she'd called him _Will. _A slip, maybe, but a telling one.

He stuck his hands in the pockets of his suit as they walked. "Where should I start?" he asked.

Elizabeth was pushing hair out of her face. She was adorable, all covered in mud or not. She said, "I suppose with anything basic that might answer the question: what is going on?"

"Right," he said cheerfully. "Well, we worked out the treaty with Ceres to get the war out of the Outer Colonies. These guys," —he indicated the military ship— "will be out of your hair in three days. A much smaller unit is being pulled back and stationed on Bisbee but the majority will be reassigned somewhere else. We're here to more or less oversee."

Elizabeth was pursing her lips. Will had expected her to be extraordinarily pleased with their success at getting the military off of her planet and felt his first twinge of anxiety. But then she glanced at him and seemed to realize what her expression must be relaying. She said, "Sorry, I really am incredibly grateful. You have no idea. I was just thinking three days isn't a lot of time to get the station back in living condition."

It was true, and it was George all over, not warning her before now. "We'll be parked here for a full week, so I can at least offer you four extra days of temporary living quarters. And plenty of help from the ship staff. I have to do a run over to New Bisbee myself."

That was an unavoidable inconvenience. But after missing the meeting on Earth, Will knew he couldn't afford to snub Bisbee again and hope for a peaceful run at the presidency in a year's time. So he had come to see Elizabeth, and he had come to smooth things over with New Bisbee, and he hadn't worked out yet which was his primary and which was his secondary motivation. Okay, actually, he had worked it out, but he would be damned if Catherine de Bourgh ever pried that particular truth out of him.

"Lydia's back on Earth," Elizabeth said suddenly, and then she looked at him with the most piercing expression.

He tired to play it off. "I heard that," he said. "I'm glad she's okay."

She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. "Don't bullshit me, Will Darcy," she said, which meant that she knew.

He sighed. "Which one told you?" he asked.

"Oh right, George has _tons _of good things to say about you."

He winced, hoped she didn't notice, but she did. Her eyes were wide and apologetic. "Sorry," she said. "You know me. I don't think, I just say things."

He waved her apology off. She added, "Lydia told me. She tried not to, but I badgered her."

He raised an eyebrow. "Who's the bully now?"

Elizabeth shrugged, laughed. "Fair enough."

He felt he needed to explain his secrecy, now that she knew about his involvement on Malderin. "I didn't want you to feel like you owed me anything," he said. And that was the truth. Because he was pretty sure that at some point during the next seven days, he was going to try to kiss her again. And if she let him, he didn't want to be wondering if she was only doing it because she felt like he had to.

Elizabeth was silent and looked thoughtful. He added, "And you don't owe me anything. I was glad to do it. Beside George is…sort of my responsibility. That is, I felt responsible."

"In that case I will just say 'thank you' once and leave it at that," Elizabeth said. "Because I think if I keep saying it you'll get annoyed, and then we'll start fighting again, and we really shouldn't fight… You know, for the sake of our child."

She looked up at him, a mischievous glint in her eye. He'd been hoping that word of the _Galaxy Watch _article had yet to reach her, but apparently it had. He didn't bother suppressing his groan, and raked a hand through his hair as he said, "So you heard about that."

"Yeah, and a heads up would've been nice. I had a call from the President."

He stopped dead in his tracks, and then she stopped and turned to look at him. She appeared bemused. He felt less so. "You're kidding me," he said, although he knew she was not. It was very much a Catherine de Bourgh thing to do.

"It was quite the thrill," she said.

He shook his head, still somewhat flabbergasted. "I'm really sorry," he said sincerely. "If I'd had any idea…"

"Don't worry about it," Elizabeth said. She seemed to have written the tabloid article off as an amusing incident—which was a far better reaction then he'd expected from her. She began walking again and he followed her lead. She added, "Actually, I hope I didn't cause any trouble for you with her. I might have been a tad belligerent."

He feigned shock. "You?"

"I know. Completely out of character, right?" she said seriously, and then grinned. This was worth it, he thought. This was completely worth putting himself through a few more excruciating conversations with George. She added, "But then I do think I'm better than _every_one."

* * *

She had meant nothing by it. She was just joking, flirting maybe. Besides, he already in the conversation alluded to that epic fight they'd had the last time he'd been on Maia. But instead of quipping something back to her he said in his business-like way, "I never should have said that. My only excuse is that I was kind of in love with you at the time, and you hurt my feelings."

Elizabeth's heart sank. It was all past tense.

But she managed to put on a brave face, accept his apologize, and then ask him to explain the particulars about the Ceres war and the new military arrangement and whatever else was going on that might concern them on Maia. He started off about the Outer Colonies treaty, and she pretended to attend, although it was difficult. The elation she'd felt at seeing him was gone. She felt sad. She felt like she had been wasteful of her chances.

They reached the military ship. Will had a meeting with George; Elizabeth went to shower. Then she had to walk back to the station, because they hadn't driven. Janie wasn't there, but Char was. She asked about Chris. He said, "They seem to have picked right back up where they left off."

Good. At least someone had.

* * *

"Okay, I know, I'm a shit friend," Chris announced as he entered the room. He had missed the meeting with George.

"You're a shit employee anyway," Will said, rather crossly. It had been a hellish two hours with George, who wasn't happy at all that he was being stationed on New Bisbee and seemed intent on making Will suffer for it, once again. Then Will looked up from computer on which he had been reading, and he felt bad. Chris looked miserably guilty.

"Sorry," they both said at once.

Chris relaxed and sat down in a nearby chair. "You don't have to sit down if Janie's waiting outside the door for you," Will said. A sheepish look from Chris confirmed Will's suspicions. He asked, "Everything's sorted between you, then?"

Chris answered the question with a question: "Everything sorted between you and Elizabeth?"

Will sighed. "Sort of. Half way. Catherine de Bourgh actually called her about the _Galaxy Watch _thing." Chris whistled. Will continued, "She took it with surprisingly good humor, however. You know, you don't have to sit here and babysit me. I'm fine. Be free."

Chris stood up. After all, he only had a week with Janie to get him threw a year without. But he asked, "Need to me to go kick Wickham's teeth in or anything before I go?"

Will laughed, and said he'd keep the offer in mind.

* * *

Char's goal was to get some of the more complex work done that night before they brought Darcy's grunts over the next day to help them with the rest of the manual work. He and Elizabeth worked on the water-recycling system for hours—or Char worked, anyway. He eventually pointed out that what Elizabeth wasn't contributing so much as she was sulking, and the sulking was causing her to miss half of the directions he was giving her. "I'm not going to keep yelling things at you five times in a row," he huffed. "Why don't you go do something that's a little more your speed right now. Like sweep that layer of construction dust off of the floor in the living area."

She glared at him, but there wasn't much to argue with. So she banged her way upstairs, grabbed the broom they had borrowed weeks ago from a janitor's closet on the military ship, and began furiously sweeping a corner of the main room.

She had not gotten far when there was a knock at the door.

_Will_, she thought. She told herself not to get her hopes up. But the fact was, Janie wouldn't have knocked, so unless Wickham had come to torture her for some reason, it had to be Darcy. She set the broom down, composed herself, walked over to the door and opened it. It was Will on the other side. Without a suit jacket on, and his sleeves rolled up, and two buttons undone. His hands were shoved in his pockets. It was the most casual she had ever seen him.

"I've lost Chris," he said. He did not sound particularly concerned.

She didn't ask him in, but she stepped out of the doorway and he came in without being asked. She said, "What a coincidence. We've lost Janie." She watched him for a reaction—this was one subject they hadn't touched on earlier, Chris and Janie—but he only smiled in a vague way. She noticed how tired his eyes looked behind the smile. And he did his thing—the hand threw his hair—as he looked around the room again.

"This is going to be a lot of work, isn't it?" he said.

She wanted to ask if he was okay, if the meeting with George had been horrible, but she didn't know if she was allowed. She realized that however open their conversation had been earlier, then had only touched on the surface of things. So she kept it light. She said, "Char is looking forward to supervising your people. He's already supervising me."

He laughed, but still with his vague and tired expression, and he sat down on stack of three mattresses they had brought over from the military ship back when they'd had more volunteers. They hadn't made it farther than the living room, which was just as well for now. There wasn't anywhere else in the room to sit.

She decided to ask him outright, whether not she was overstepping. "Bad time with Wickham?"

He leaned back on his elbows and looked at her, for the first time, directly. "That's an understatement," he said, and sighed. "I was very tempted to handle this whole thing from New Bisbee and just send Collins out here to deal to him. You have no idea."

_Don't ask_, she thought.

Yet she heard herself saying, "Why didn't you?"

He was fully present now, the vague expression replaced by something sharp, but still unreadable. She was still standing in front of him, arms crossed as if she had just issued a challenge. Perhaps she had.

He said, offhandedly, "Well, I had to bring you Char."

"Right." She dropped her arms, turned, and went back to corner she had been sweeping. She picked up the broom and picked up where she had left off. She felt him watching her, and then she heard him stand up and cross the room. Out of her periphery, she could see him by the window looking out, but she didn't look at him. She wouldn't look at him.

Then she heard him ask, "Can I be completely honest with you?"

She set the broom down. When she turned, she found him looking at her intently. There was a lot of space between them. She took a few steps towards him to narrow the gap. "Yes," she said.

There was no more hesitation. He took a step to close the distance between them and then impulsively he leaned down and kissed her, bracing the back of her head with one hand. And a little explosion went off inside of her, and it was better than the Earth Room because now she was sure, she had never been surer about anything. Too soon he was pulling away, as if to gage her reaction. But as he leaned back she leaned forward, on the tips of her toes, and their lips met again. Now both of his hands were on her body, and she had his shirt balled in one of hers.

And then he was pulling away again. With reluctance, she allowed it. He stepped back so that there was breathing room between them, room to look at each other, room to fill with explanations.

"I just want to be absolutely clear here," Will said.

He was trying to be serious, and so was she, but the corners of his mouth kept twitching towards a smile. And she could feel hers doing the same. Nevertheless, she did her best to nod sagely. "Right," she said.

"Because the last time I kissed you, you screamed bloody murder at me the next day, and I would hate to wake up tomorrow morning and—"

"Will," she interrupted, with ever so slight exasperation.

"You're right, I got a bit off topic there," he said. "What was the original question?"

"Why didn't you handle this whole thing from New Bisbee."

"Ah yes," he nodded, and then continued matter-of-factly: "Because I'm in love you. Because I had to see you and convince you to be my girlfriend."

"Okay," she said. "I'm convinced."

"Really?" he said, almost suspiciously, as if this had suddenly been too easy and he didn't trust it. "You realize the press is going to have a field day with you after _Galaxy Watch_ and you will probably get more scary satellite calls from the President? I mean, it's not going to just be me running after your sister and ending wars for you. I'm not this gallant all the time."

She laughed. She was bursting with happiness, and she couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry, did you say you wanted to talk me into this or out of it?"

He was smiling too. "I figure if I disillusion you now, it'll give us a running start."

"I'm in love with you too," Elizabeth said, "and besides—"

She never finished the sentence because he kissed her again.

Soon afterwards, Chris and Janie returned. Then Char came up from downstairs and said, "Oh good, everyone's here. I think we need to strategize how we're going to get this all done in the next week." They laid the mattresses out in a row and then sat on them in a circle to organize a schedule. But in the end, Chris and Char turned out to be an organizational dream team. They quickly had the whole week mapped out without much input from the others. Will and Chris stayed and helped them until everyone was too tired to work anymore. Then they went back to their ship, and Janie, Elizabeth, and Char stayed in their station on the mattresses on the living room floor.

And everyone slept better than they had in months.

* * *

**A/N: You know what to do! REVIEW!**

**Part III coming soon!**


	23. Part III, one day, a week

Part III

which features:  
anniversaries

* * *

_**one day**_

"And don't get mad at me for saying it, Elizabeth, but I'm starting to think that Will Darcy is kind of nice," Janie was saying.

It was morning. They were driving in the dune buggy to the government ship, to round up the promised lackeys as well as a new satellite Will and Chris revealed to have brought with them. (Will had shrugged: "You are government funded, are you not?") Elizabeth hadn't been attending the conversation Janie and Char were having, but the mention of her name brought her back t o the present.

"What?" she asked.

"I said, I'm starting to like Darcy."

"Oh," Elizabeth said. "Good, because I think he's my boyfriend."

Janie, who was driving, slammed on the breaks. The dune bugged skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust which left Elizabeth coughing and shaking sand out of her hair. "What?" Janie said.

"I never asked," Char mused absently from the back seat, "are you pregnant?"

"_What!" _Janie again, louder and with feeling.

"No, I am not pregnant—thanks Char, adorable—" Elizabeth turned around to shoot him a look then continued to Janie, "but yes, I do appear to be in a relationship with William Darcy, future president himself."

Janie, bewildered, shook her head slowly. "How did this happen? _When _did it happen?"

"Gradually," Elizabeth said. "Very gradually. And don't worry, I promise to give you the entire play-by-play after this crazy week is over. It will fill up some of our spare time over this next year."

Janie sighed and grumbled something about how she missed all the good stuff, and nobody told her anything anymore, but she conceded to Elizabeth's suggestion and started up the dune buggy again. Soon they found themselves reaching the government ship, where there was already a crowd of quite organized volunteers waiting in the docking bay.

"Leave it to Chris," Elizabeth marveled.

Janie was beaming. "He's rather brilliant, isn't he?"

"God help me," Char said, rolling his eyes heavenward. "I'm surrounded by happiness. I think I'm getting a stomach ache."

They excited the dune buggy. They saw Chris immediately, who waved them over to where he was. "I've got everyone mostly sorted into groups," he said, mostly to Char. The two of them seemed to be working together remarkably well. She was going to have to tell Will, Elizabeth began thinking, with a smile—

And then there was Will, beside her. His hand lightly and briefly touched her back, announcing his presence. But that was all. She glanced at him sideways and found him listening, or pretending very hard to be listening, to the conversation between Char and Chris. She looked away, and her eyes caught Janie. Janie raised her eyebrows.

"Okay," Char said. "Well, I think we all know what we're doing then."

Elizabeth hadn't the foggiest idea what they were doing. She had not been attending, once again. But she found their group was breaking apart. She wondered if she had been given some duty when she wasn't listening, but she didn't have much time to worry about it before Will had grabbed her hand and was hauling her off somewhere, through a door and into an empty hallway. Not that she offered up much resistance.

He kissed her, and although it was a great deal more than pleasant, she leaned away from him. "What's this?" she asked suspiciously. "Are you keeping me a secret?"

He shook his head. "I didn't want to presume you weren't keeping me a secret," he said.

"As if anyone would be ashamed of Will Darcy."

"If anyone would be, it would be you."

He kissed her again, and she let it go on this time until it was him who broke off to speak.

"So I have a proposition for you." She arched an eyebrow. He continued, "As you know, I'm leaving for Bisbee this afternoon and as you know Bisbee is making it possible for these troops you have so come to loathe to be taken from your planet, and I was thinking to myself last night, wouldn't it be nice if one of the Maia scientists themselves could come with me to New Bisbee and personally thank the union for their cooperation and assistance?"

"You want me to come to New Bisbee with you so that I can personally thank the union?" Elizabeth managed to put the question to him straight-faced.

"I may have ulterior motives. Two day trip, practically empty ship…" he trailed off, looked at her hopefully.

Elizabeth wanted to say yes. She so wanted to say yes. But she sighed. "You know I can't. We have a whole station to repair. I can't abandon Char and Janie."

"I knew you would say that and I have a solution. I'll leave Chris here. Fair trade. He's very useful."

She recognized this as the magnanimous offer it was. It also spoke volumes as to how much he wanted to be with her. Of course she knew she was going to relent, because she wanted to be with him about that much too. And they only had a week. She remembered what she had thought to tell him earlier.

"You'd better be careful or Char will steal your boyfriend. Those two are thick as thieves already."

He looked baffled, and then a smile slowly dawned on his face. "Let Char try," he said. "I figure you and I will leave around one, which gives us at least a few hours to help out here."

"Oddly enough, I'm finding your general attitude of overconfidence really attractive right now," she said.

He nodded. "Most people do." He was really in a very good mood.

They couldn't fly Will's ship to New Bisbee with most of the staff staying to help with the reconstruction, so they were taking a much smaller short-flight ship from the military station. They drove over in her dune buggy, which had been his dune buggy, and Elizabeth found herself telling him how warily she'd circled it for at least a month after he'd left, how annoyed she'd been at him leaving her in his debt.

He protested that this had not been the intention. "It was a last minute thing. Chris said, 'We should leave them one of these' and I agreed, but at that point neither of us really wanted to drive back over there. So we made some staffer do it. Rather cowardly, in retrospect."

Neither said it, but they were both anxious not to run into George. They were living in a sort of suspended reality, and they knew that to see him would be to break it. They were lucky. They made it in and through the military ship without a sight of him and soon were tucked safely inside their ship on the docking bay.

The door shut. They were alone.

Well, practically alone. They were standing in the middle of ship still, and there were crewmen milling about. So she was not surprised to find herself grabbed and led by the hand again back to his room (which she had a feeling would just be their room). And then that door was shut behind them. And then she was up against that door, and there were lips on hers and hands all over the place.

"I better not find out in two weeks that this has just been the most extravagant booty call in the history of booty calls," she panted. They were both losing clothing at an alarming rate. She was all for it, but it seemed like some kind of statement should be made.

He did not let go of her, but leaned back enough to look at her. "I hesitate to say to say 'I love you' right now because it would seem a lot like a line to get you into bed."

"But you do love me."

"So much," he kissed her, "that I would take you to your own room right now if you asked me to."

And that was as much as any girl could ask for. "Don't be an idiot," she said, and there was no more talk of separate bedrooms.

* * *

_**a week**_

In the morning, when she woke, Will was sitting up in bed beside her. She was laying on her stomach, naked, the white comforter pulled up only to the middle of her spine. She opened her eyes, but she did not immediately move. She could tell from the flickering of light that the TV was on, but she could detect no sound, and idly she wondered if Will Darcy had some sort of not-on-the-market hearing enhancement that allowed him hear at this volume. She felt warm and lazy and content. And then she realized what day it was. The last day.

She shifted, pulling the covers up and rolling onto her back, further from him.

The TV was on mute, she realized, and Will was also on the phone. Seeing her awake, he said, "Hold on," into the phone and then held his hand over the receiver and turned to her. "Did I wake you?" he asked apologetically.

"I don't think so," she said.

"Sorry," he said. "Something's happening. Give me a few minutes." With that he lifted his hand off the receiver and she listened to his side of the conversation: "What about Avery? … I know it's not going to be _popular_, but this isn't going to be popular with any planet, is it? … Well, if Domino is 70% infected, why don't we send anyone who's clean to Avery and use Domino? …. No, that's what I think we should do. Tell her that. … No, call me back."

This was going to be their life—interrupted for him to manage one crisis or another while she laid in bed beside him. She found she didn't mind much. It was far better than him leaving the room to do it.

He had hung up the phone. "So remember that Far East cholera outbreak that unleashed George upon us both? It turned into something of a multiple-planet pandemic. Apparently the strain has modified and they're having a bit of trouble tackling it now. They want a quarantine planet."

"We don't have a healthy population to evacuate here," she said. "Maia would be perfect."

His reply was somewhat cross. "It would be if there was any practical way of transporting billions of choleric people across the galaxy. Besides you have enough of a death wish has it is; you think I'm going to send you an epidemic as well?" His phone rang and he answered it, turning the TV off at the same time with an irritated gesture.

They'd been having a bit of a disagreement. Will had taken pains to word the treaty with Ceres in a way that would allow him to leave a very small group of soldiers on Maia, for protection of the space station only. But Elizabeth saw that though this was not breaking the letter of the treaty, it was breaking its spirit, and she wanted nothing on Maia that might make a seductive target again. She was refusing the troops. Janie remained neutral, but Char was backing her. Will was very annoyed.

She heard him say into the phone, "Yes we _are _leaving today, which still means that a week and a half is the fastest we can get to the Far East planets." Elizabeth could tell from his tone he was talking to Collins, and she felt some sympathy for him. He said, "No, with all due respect, I can't possibly talk to the President any sooner than that. Four hours, Collins. The cholera isn't going anywhere."

He hung up again and then, as if on second thought, went ahead and turned the phone off. His hair tended to be rather unruly in the morning, and today was no exception. She smiled, looking at him, and said, "I'm afraid you're going to get a reputation of being a bit if a rebel if you're not careful."

"I might," he said and then he slid down beside her. They lay in silence, not touching, until at last he said, "I wish Icould stay here with you. I don't feel good about this at all."

She said, "I'm not the one going back to a planet full of girls." It wasn't a generous thing to say, but she couldn't help it. She had been thinking it too much.

"I'm offering to leave you with some eligible bachelors here. I will let you hand pick the most attractive soldiers. That's how magnanimous I'm being."

She sighed and turned onto her side, away from him. They seemed to be having two different conversations, both caught up in their individual concerns about their partings. His concerns were for her safety. Hers had more to do with the parting itself.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I've been thinking," Elizabeth began slowly, measuring her words, "that maybe we should…sort of put a hold on things until the year is up. You know, not call it anything or—"

"I'm not going to have this conversation with you if you don't look at me," he cut in, and she felt him shift in the bed beside her. When she reluctantly turned around she found him sitting again so that she had to look up at him. She felt vulnerable. She pulled the covers up tighter under her arms.

She tried to adopt her most matter-of-fact tone. "Look, we both know a year is a long time. I'm just saying let's be practical about it. If I come back from Maia and we both still think we want this, great. But in the mean time, you in particular are going to have to make a lot of decision about, you know, the presidency and your future and I don't want us to be the thing looming over your head making you feel guilty about any of those decisions."

"Like in case I suddenly find that I need to marry Anne de Bourgh after all."

That was basically what she'd meant. "I just know that you're career is important to you," she said. "It's the most important thing."

"Jesus, Elizabeth." He pressed both hands over his face and then slid them up into his hair, and looked back down at her again. "I mean, that might have been true a few months ago but…" he broke off.

She softened. She couldn't help it, because after all she was in love with the man. "Sorry. That wasn't fair," she said. She found his hand with hers and laced their fingers together, turning to face him more fully. He was looking down at their hands. She said, "But it is important. And you said yourself, it's going to be a media storm if you suddenly announce you're in a relationship with me after the pregnancy thing. And I mean, are you sure you want me to cause you all that trouble when you can't even be sure if after a year—"

"But I am sure," he interrupted. "I know exactly where I'll want to be in a year, and that' s here. The only variable being that if you make me put a pause on things and refuse my satellite calls, I'll be horribly cross that whole year long and make Chris's life miserable." He let go of her hand and in one swift movement shifted, now bracing himself above her with an elbow on either side of her. He leaned down and gave her a slow, lingering kiss—the kind, a week later, that still felt electric. "Have pity on Chris," he said, close to her ear, and then kissed her neck.

It was a while before the conversation picked back up.

"Unless _you're_ not sure," Will said. "Is that was this is about?"

As the question came, she herself was still catching her breathe. And now, in the afterwards, half draped over him in a satisfied heap of limbs, it seemed a ridiculous conversation to be having in the first place. But she had started it. "No," she said against his chest. "It just seems presumptuous to think I'll actually get to keep Will Darcy. But you do seem to be the loyal sort. Loyal to a fault, as Chris would say."

"As Chris would say," he repeated. And then: "We really need to stop talking about Chris in bed."

This was finally a subject upon which they agreed.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, that update took way longer than I thought it would. Apologies! Two more chapters, and I'll try to have the next one up much more promptly. This last section is going to be sort of vignettes, as you see. Hope you enjoy! REVIEW! Heh.**


	24. Part III, ten years, six months

_**ten years**_

The email came as Will was about to head over to a particularly boring and routine meeting and was, in contrast, interesting and a shock. He read it once then leaned back in his chair, rapping his fingers distractedly against his desk. Then he pressed print, stood, waited a moment and grabbed the email printout before leaving his office.

Chris caught up with him outside the meeting room, and Will handed him the printout as if it were something standard. "What's this?" Chris asked, as he scanned the email and caught the name at the end of it. He looked up at Will with eyebrows raised sky-high.

"Some interesting reading to get you through the meeting," Will said. And they went in.

During the meeting Chris read the follow.

_William. William, William, William. Today is our anniversary. HA! Are you laughing? Probably not, seeing as you've gotten so fucking serious lately with the presidency lust and don't you even try to pin that one on me. But yes, ha ha, ten years. Why would you be laughing, you don't even know what anniversary I'm talking about? Ten years ago today good old DADIO paid me a ridiculous lot of cash and all I had to do was promise on the Bible to cut off all communication with William Darcy son of William Darcy son of William Darcy and so forth, because all William Darcy's have a DESTINY OF GREATNESS that can only be hindered by close association with trash like me. And I fucking took that money, I didn't even think about it I just took it. I guess that answers some questions you have so congratulations. I needed the money. I thought I could take it and it would matter and it wouldn't change anything anyway. But you do these things and then there are secrets and guilt and shit, and that gets heavy so you throw it at whoever you can and you're the only person I have to throw anything at. So there you have it. HAPPY ANNIVERSARY to the us we are._

_George_

* * *

It turned into a busy day. Will didn't look at the email again, and frankly he steered wide of Chris until the time came that he was about ready to pack it in and call it a night. Then he went down to Chris's office. His friend was on the phone, but waved him in anyway. Will sat down to wait. Chris said into the phone, "Well, I'm sorry Caroline, but what do you want me to say?"

Will leaned his head back against his chair and closed his eyes. Caroline had not yet been deterred by his unavailability. She had convinced herself that Elizabeth Bennett was only his rebellious phase and made it clear that she intended to be there on the other side of that phase.

Chris said, "Look Caroline, I have to go. I'll see you later."

It was still another few minutes before he was off the phone, with a sigh. "Caroline's on about being neglected again," Chris said, and Will leaned his head back up and opened his eyes. "I told her Giana and Lydia might not mind spending time with her if she was actually nice to them, and then she got all, 'Who's side are you on, Christian?'"

It was an interesting quirk of life that Giana and Lydia had not only become friends, but seemed to have a good influence on each other. Although Elizabeth doubted that Lydia could be a good influence on anyone. But it was true. Giana was too serious and Lydia was too not serious about anything, and their friendship seemed to be teaching them both something about balance. It was good to see Giana acting like a seventeen-year-old once in a while.

Caroline, however, hated Lydia and didn't mind showing it.

"You have my pity," Will said to Chris.

Chris nodded to acknowledge that the pity was duly noted, then rummaged around on the papers on his desk. From the pile, he pulled out the email, and held it up between them. "So what about this?"

Will took it and glanced through it, for only the second time. "Well for starters, I think he was drunk," he said.

"Obviously. Do you think it's true?"

Will set the paper down on Chris desk. That was, of course, the question. "I guess I think it is," he said frankly. "There's nothing for him to gain by it. And it makes sense."

Chris was nodding slowly. "I hesitate to ask, but how are you going to respond?"

Will shook his head. This answer he knew. "I'm not going to. What is there to say, 'I forgive you'? George doesn't want absolution. Maybe it means something that he told me, even if he was drunk, but all responding would do is open me up to more of the same cycle. "

He stopped there, although there was more in his head, and the silence that fell made him feel heavy. Or maybe it was George that made him feel heavy, and he thought about what George had wrote about throwing that heaviness at anyone you could. Will had done that, he guessed, that first time he'd been on Maia. He'd thrown it at Elizabeth and he'd thrown it at Chris, and he wasn't going back to that.

He said, "The funny thing is, if he would've told me back then, about my father offering him the money? I would've told him, take it. My father…he wasn't a very nice man. And then it probably _wouldn't _have made a difference. It would've just been this joke between us. And he could've had the money if he needed it."

"Maybe he didn't tell you because he thought he could be noble," Chris said, and then his phone rang. He sighed. "Again, Caroline."

"You can bring her over for dinner," Will said, more than generous, but an episode with George always made him remember that friends like Chris were hard to come by. "But warn her that Lydia Bennett is staying with Giana this week. And also warn her that I am still in love with Elizabeth, with no apparent cracks."

"So it shall be done," Chris said with mock solemnity, and answered the phone. Will stood and made his exit. He left George's email behind.

* * *

_**six months**_

"So what do you think?"

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair in front of the satellite screen and regarded the expression on the face of her boyfriend. She said, "That's a stealth move, Will Darcy."

"It is rather a stealth move, isn't it?" he grinned. "Anyway, I wanted to run it by you."

"Why, because I strike you as the irrationally jealous type?" she said, although not really offended.

From somewhere outside of the satellite screen, she heard Chris's voice, with uncustomary sarcasm: "Because he's extraordinarily pleased with himself right now and he wants as many people as possible to tell him how brilliant he is."

Will looked somewhere to his left and said, "Chris is just resentful because he didn't think of it himself."

"That I am," Chris said, appearing in the screen. "Where Janie?"

"Somewhere doing actual work. I'll send her up when I'm done with this one." Elizabeth nodded toward Will's image.

"I'll take that deal," Chris said, and left them on their own.

"So what do you actually think?" Will asked.

Chris's resentment aside, the brilliance of Will's latest scheme could not be denied. He wanted to put Anne de Bourgh on his ticket as his vice president running mate. There had been some fallout with the Catherine de Bourgh camp when his relationship with Elizabeth had gone public, and it was well known by him and pretty much the galaxy that that fallout was the only real threat to his future presidency. But a move like this would force Catherine de Bourgh back on his team.

So if he was asking her what she _thought_ about it, she could say with honestly, "Like I said, I think it's a stealth move. But how do you know she'll even agree to do it?"

He settled back comfortably into his chair. He had already thought it all through, quite thoroughly. Elizabeth could tell. He said, "Well, I don't for sure. But I think she will. In fact, it's a great way for President de Bourgh to save face. She can play it like this is what she meant to happen all along, not the marriage nonsense. And Anne de Bourgh doesn't even have to be good at the job when I've got Chris."

Elizabeth interjected, "And why don't you put Chris on the ticket? Man does all the work and gets none of the glory."

"I suggested it, but he was both professionally and personally horrified," Will said and breezed on. "And anyway, I think Anne might surprise us all and make a rather good vice president. I had a long talk with her yesterday. She's very bright and she's well-informed about most of the galaxy, almost more than I am."

Elizabeth listened with growing dislike for all things Anne de Bourgh. And she was letting it get the best of her. Her reply was full of snark."Whereas my well-informed-ness is limited to one uninhabited planet in the furthest corner of your domain. Here I cannot compete with her."

"Why would you want to compete with her? I just want her to be my vice president, so unless that's what you've been angling at this whole time…" He trailed off and offered her one of his most probing stares, even through the satellite screen. She forced herself to stare right back at him unblinking, or else he would _know…_ But he knew anyway. He said, "You _are _being irrationally jealous, aren't you?"

Elizabeth exhaled deeply and tried to make her body relax. She tried not to be cross. She was just feeling this way because of the day. "I'm jealous of any woman who actually gets to be in the same room with you—hell, on the same planet—and I hardly call it irrational," she said. She had silenced him. Will was looking at her sadly now, as if there was nothing that could be said to this. She added, "It's been six months since you left."

"I know," he said. "Six months exactly. I know what day it is."

Still, it was easy enough for Will, but Elizabeth was afraid of losing him—to the type of girl, for instance, who was bright and well-informed and didn't need to be prepped for press conferences. She was afraid that he would figure out that she wasn't what was best for him or what he wanted. And although she knew what he would say—that she was what was best for him and what he wanted—it didn't always make the distance easier.

What he did say was, "I was going to come out there."

"Here?" she asked, because she must not have heard him right.

But he nodded. "I had it all scheduled, ship arranged and everything. You can ask Chris. But then there was that relapse scare with the cholera and suddenly a lot of work to do and I couldn't get away right now. But maybe next month—"

"Will, it's too far. It's a two week round trip. There's always going to be a cholera scare."

"There can't possibly that much cholera."

She smiled. She felt unaccountably reassured. It meant a lot that he had had the thought to come all the way to Maia. But she said, "You know what I mean." And she meant there would always be something Will Darcy had to do that would prevent the trip. It was just his life.

He sighed. "I do. But it was such a nice dream."

"Let's look at it this way," Elizabeth said. "We've made the halfway mark. It's all downhill from here." She waved he hands in a mock cheer, and he smiled. But a minute later he grew serious again.

"If you're really bothered about Anne…" he began

"I'm not," she said, and it felt like the honest truth. "To be honest, it really helps lessen the guilt I'd pent up about damaging your political career by seducing you."

Will laughed. "You've an interesting method of seduction."

She smiled. "Can't argue with results."


	25. Part III, seven years, one day

_**seven years**_

Janie heaved a bag into the living room and dropped it heavily onto the floor. "I need a break," she said to Elizabeth, who was sitting on the couch. "What's going on out here?"

Elizabeth had been packed for a good week, whereas Janie was taking the last-minute approach. Elizabeth shrugged. "I'm just hanging out with your boyfriend. I was trying to call mine, but he's off saving the universe, or whatever it is he does with his free time."

"He's in with the president," Chris interpreted from the satellite screen.

"Yeah, I can bet that's a last ditch effort to talk him out of me and into Anne de Bourgh," Elizabeth said, moving over so there was room for Janie to sit down beside her. "She could be his wife _and _his vice president. How cute would that be?"

"Albert and Victoria kinds of cute. Love story of the millennium," Chris said.

Elizabeth scowled at the screen. She said to Janie, "I hate him. You can have him."

She wanted to go visit her plants one last time anyway. It seemed silly, maybe. She was going back to a planet full of plants. But her garden here meant something to her. It was not what it had been before the bomb had destroyed it, but she had spent the year working to get it back in some order. She was glad that one of the three trainees who were taking over the Maia station after them had been as excited about the garden. But she was still sad to let it go, and apprehensive about leaving it to someone else's care. Char felt the same way about his water recycling system.

When she returned back to the living room, it was Char sitting on the couch and Will on the satellite screen. "Don't use the toilet," Char said. She raised her eyebrows, and Char said, "I'm testing Phil. I have to be sure he can fix the water system under pressure before I leave him alone with my baby."

Phil was one of the trainees. They had been on the planet for a month—a month of very cramped quarters. Whereas Char, Janie, and Elizabeth were long since used to wandering in and out of each other's satellite calls, the trainees still seemed a bit weirded out by Will Darcy showing up on the screen and steered clear when Elizabeth was talking to him.

"And what if he can't fix it? You're staying here? Would you really choose the water recycling system over me?" Elizabeth asked Char, as she settled down beside him.

"We'll all stay here!" Char proclaimed, then laughed as Will groaned.

"That's just cruel," Will said.

Then somewhere a toilet flushed, and Char was on his feet in a second flat. "I said DON'T flush the toilets!" he bellowed, as he barreled out of the room.

"Well," Will said, once Char was gone. "He seems okay. I mean, he seems himself."

"Char? He's coping. Training the newbs has been a pretty good distraction," Elizabeth replied.

Collins had dumped Char via satellite two weeks ago. The timing had been both brutal and suspicious, and sure enough a few days later it came out that he was already seeing someone, a field organizer from the Darcy camp. A girl. It was Will who had discovered it first, and had sworn complete ignorance up until that point. "The thing is," he'd said, "I usually make a sprint in any other direction as soon as I see Collins. So I really had no idea." Elizabeth knew he was telling the truth. Will and Char had gotten to know each other pretty well over the past year, and to Elizabeth's immense relief they liked each other immensely. Had Will known, he would have said.

He said, now, "Collins is scrambling. He doesn't know whether he's coming or going anymore. As of now, I can guarantee you he's going. And truthfully, I cannot pretend to be sorry about the thought of Collins out of my life forever. It's a dream come true, really."

"I hope you haven't said so to Char."

"It was actually the first thing I said to him just now," Will said, and then: "Of course I haven't said so to Char."

Elizabeth laughed. "Hey, I'm just saying. Historically, your sensitivity has not been something to admire."

"You know, you're the only person in galaxy who thinks so. I'm practically the sensitivity candidate."

She rolled her eyes. "I wish Chris would stop putting these things into your head."

"What things?" she heard Chris's voice ask.

"That he's the sensitivity candidate," Elizabeth said. "His ego doesn't need your help."

Will began playing the martyr ("What? What have I done to deserve this attack?") while Chris, meanwhile, appeared on screen musing, "Sensitivity candidate. I like it. We could use a brain like yours on the campaign, if you're looking for a job." He was typing something into his computer. She hoped he wasn't actually jotting down _sensitivity candidate_, but he probably was.

"You can't afford me," she said. And while that probably wasn't true—the Will Darcy campaign could probably afford anyone—she did have quite a few job offers already rolling in, and she wasn't even on Earth yet. She suspected that had more to do with her connection to Will than her work on Maia. But she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Pity," Chris said. "Anyway, duty calls us."

"I just want the record to show that I actually came up with sensitivity candidate," Will said. Then to Elizabeth he added, "See you in a week. And I don't care what Char's toilets are doing; you'd better get on that ship."

Elizabeth smiled. "Scout's honor," she said, and saluted them.

"Toilets?" she heard Chris asking in confusion as the screen flickered off.

Elizabeth got up and went back to the bedroom, where she found Janie kneeling on the floor, shoving the last of her things into a bag, taking no care to fold or pack carefully. She looked up when Elizabeth entered and sat back on her heals. "I can't believe we're leaving today," she said.

"Me neither," Elizabeth grinned. And yes, there were probably things she would miss about Maia—her plants, the dune buggy, the feeling of doing something important. But right now she couldn't feel anything but happy.

* * *

_**one day**_

When Will woke up, she was sitting up in bed beside him and the television was on. He yawned and pulled himself into sitting positions that mirrored hers. As she felt him move, she reached over and put a hand on his knee, but otherwise her concentration remained on the TV. She was wearing his shirt from yesterday.

"What are you doing?" he asked, squinting as his eyes adjusted.

"I'm watching us on the news," she said. "Apparently we're very in love."

Elizabeth was indeed watching as two perky morning show hosts talked over clips of their reunion yesterday. "I think it's sweet," the blonde, bosomy one—he was pretty sure he'd been interviewed by her once—was saying. "They know the camera's are on them and their trying to be demure, but he never lets go of her hand. It's definitely the happiest the galaxy has seen William Darcy." The video clip showed him leaning in to say something to her, and she laughed, her eyes bright and joyful.

Now, alone with her, Will leaned forward against Elizabeth and kissed her shoulder.

The other morning show host, this one your classic ken doll said, "But I think what people are wondering, Suzie, is if all the mooning around is going to affect his ability to run—"

Elizabeth turned the television off. She lay back down, gone thoughtful. "Do you want me to do the interview thing?"

She'd been invited a few weeks ago to be a special guest on the galaxy's most watched talk show. People wanted to know who she was, and while she said she didn't mind and she'd known what she was getting into, he wasn't sure all the publicity didn't bother her a little. "I told you," he said, "it's completely up to you."

"Well I've thought about that, and I think I want to do whatever is going to best for you."

"Then ask Chris," he said dismissively.

She seemed almost annoyed by this answer. "You know you can just say, 'I want you to go on the show' or 'I don't want you to go on the show.' You don't have to throw it to Chris. I won't be mad either way. I just want to know what you want."

He looked at her, Elizabeth Bennett, and it just came out. He didn't mean for it to, but it did. "Marry me," he said. She sat bolt upright again. He'd never seen her eyes so huge. "That's what I want. I want you to marry me."

Elizabeth blinked. "Are you kidding me right now?"

"Um?" He pushed his hair back nervously. What was he doing? Of course she was going to say no. He should've waited. He had meant to wait. "Okay, look—" he began.

"Did Chris put you up to this?" she interrupted. "Does he think it looks better if we're engaged?"

"What? Elizabeth! Come on. Please tell me you think better of me then that."

Her eye softened. "Sorry."

"Listen," he said. "I know we've been on the same planet for a grand total of about two months the whole time we've known each other and this might seem premature. But for me…well, I know I'm going to marry you. I'd marry you tomorrow, and I don't give a damn what it _looks_ like or what Chris thinks about it, or Catherine de Bourgh for that matter, or any and every political analyst out there. But on the other hand I get it if you want to, you know, be on the same side of the galaxy as me for a while before you make that decision. So I don't want you to feel like, I have to say yes now in case he won't ask again. Because trust me, I will. Better. With a ring. So…" He paused. "No pressure," he finished lamely. And she was still staring at him like she she'd been thrown into a state of shock.

It felt like ages, but it was probably on a few seconds. She said, "I have one question. If I stay yes now can I still have a ring?"

"What?" he said dumbly.

Then she was laughing and crawling into his lap and kissing him and saying, "You're such an idiot. What did you think I was going to say? I love you. Of course yes." And it was really an incredible response to such a bungled proposal. But Will Darcy was not about to complain.

* * *

Later that day, in the car, Elizabeth was beginning to feel nervous. The closer they got the restaurant, the worse it was. They were having dinner with her parents. "It's going to be fine," Will kept saying. But that was easy enough for him to say. He didn't have parents. Specifically, he didn't have Rose Bennett for a parent.

"It's not that I don't want you to meet them," Elizabeth said. "It's just that I wish you'd bought be a ring first. Because then when you change your mind I'd at least have something to pawn."

The only relief to her growing anxiety was that Giana and Lydia were also meeting them. It was possibly the first time she'd been relieved about Lydia coming along to something. But Will had seen the worst of Lydia and still let her hang out with his sister. Lydia was the devil Will knew. Rose Bennett was the devil who might be a deal breaker.

"Elizabeth," he said. "I braved George for you. I doubt your mother is going to scare me off."

"True," she said.

He was still going. "Not to mention the fact that my family _is _George, so you hardly have a lock on the Worst Relative award."

"All true," she said. "Although you forget that I am distantly related to Collins."

"Hmmm," he mused. "Alright, you win."

She noticed that she didn't feel nervous anymore. She leaned back in her chair, relaxed. What was there to be nervous about? They had made it through a year apart. They had made it through the president of the galaxy trying to split them up, and George, and lot of assumptions and misjudgments, and even an actual war. Of course they would make it through her mother.

She was, in fact, pretty sure they would make it through anything. She said, "A year and a half ago, when you showed up on my planet, do you know how much I hated you?"

"Yes," he said ruefully. "Because you told me. Repeatedly."

"Thank you for not giving up on me," she said.

He glanced at her. She was sincere, and he saw it. "Well," he said, "it was its own reward." And his hand that wasn't steering the car came to rest on her leg.

They were five minutes away from the restaurant. Elizabeth felt happy, content. Her nervousness had been replaced by a kind of warmth. Will Darcy was going to meet her parents. She was going to marry him, and he was going to be president someday. They would have many adventures. They would have fights, because they were both so stubborn. They would have kids who would call Chris and Char "uncle." She wanted all of it. She wanted all of it with him. And she was going to have it. Today was day one.

Today was the beginning.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry, that chapter took excruciatingly long for me to write, but hope you all enjoyed the story. Reviewers and lurkers alike, this is your last chance so REVIEW NOW! Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing throughout and stuck through it with me. You guys are the best! I may have a new story in the works, so keep an eye on my profile!**

**Jill: For you! As promised!**


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